[syndicate] Champion Damsels

[jeff harrison]

The wind shelves the stars, 
Ah!, the stars!, envious 
Of the wind, have hands for the night solely 

They are ashen handed, 
Ah!, ashen handed!, and hushed -- 
Are disregardful of the vowed sounds?, 

Or when the cry strikes, comply with 
"The beasts there, their low sounds, 
Finally!, exiled sky from beneath our feet --" ? 

The past to the stars 
Is the Sun, when envy was the Moon's 

The past to the wind? 
To hear her tell it, 
The time she pulled the Moon off the top shelf 
       
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