Inspiration is like an unwanted guest sometimes. and tonight, it’s going to keep my pen and i awake in 47 degrees. i’ve only got three cigarettes left, but at least i’ve been having beautiful dates with the sunrise these past few days. Then i get to hear that croaky, dry, nostalgic voice that feeds my addiction before i sleep, leaving my date to it’s fulltime job, making trees grow greener, and the wind to blow softer warmer air. as dusk begins this fight, the day retreats and the night slowly wins the fight. blueish hues in the sky pushing the golden brown ones away, during this time of day, but the spectating autumn foliage closest to the bout, reminds us the magnificence and beauty of a glorious battle.