At night I sit in darkness stalking stars -
the ones which dance and move while I'm awake.
Imagine doing this for endless hours -
the ones which fall will cause the Earth to shake.
I reach up with my staff and poke the sky -
the moon - my only guide so I can see.
Some will come loose though others may well die -
somehow the ones I like fall right to me.
Before the sun comes up I'll lay them out -
I'll crush them up and hide them far away.
These are the ones the sky must do without -
these stars will shine for only me one day.
So late that night, the sky is just a vine -
I'll catch my stars and they will age like wine.
