circles within circles
we ride through them all
circles within circles
in the midst of the southern regions
there a man rests and weeps
this year next year
sometimes
oh never

if we think then that there is
no joy

but listen
on the edge of the winds
all many greens manifold and lovely
the sighing and crying of the winds
the lovely boughs
the lovely lights
the lovely stars jewelly nobles
the pitted starheads of burning fires
burn far brighter burn brighter
starry glory golden flame
lambent than any other stars we know
the moony wetmouthed cradle of bluenight
the plumed bird lovely voiced
the streaked cat rooted hairshine
head of furlight
purr of bright sound
lovely and noble jewelly lords
so sparkling glimmering spitting lights
little houses of fire
in little towns of fire
open and shut their fiery sandsheet eyes

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