one peaceful, telling instance remaining,
night wind turns to her everything, darkness,
and she, so small and insecure, mutters,
'dear darkness, is it only me you love?'
and the darkness remained solemn.
he wrapped her up in himself and replied,
'of course i do, and i will for always.'
and that was simply enough.
transcendentalism at its finest
nature's creatures communicating
and we nod pretentiously
as though we are good enough to understand.
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Submission Name: The Night Wind and The Darkness
