We carry complementary lamps:
Stars and Christmas and Pastel-Sun.
A little light is a glorious thing,
like the fleeting harmony of footsteps.
The sun sets at four; and we remember our candles,
each a fresh fire, a clock that flickers.
We march on, steady, frozen hands carrying flaming drumsticks:
Red Cheeks, White Toes, and Green Laurels on each Soldier's Head.
Stars and Christmas and Pastel-Sun.
A little light is a glorious thing,
like the fleeting harmony of footsteps.
The sun sets at four; and we remember our candles,
each a fresh fire, a clock that flickers.
We march on, steady, frozen hands carrying flaming drumsticks:
Red Cheeks, White Toes, and Green Laurels on each Soldier's Head.
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