deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Archer
Left arm extended and locked,
arrow drawn to cheek as
fletching brushes two day old
stubble.
Right elbow bent, pointed
tight against quiver at back,
tendons taunt with muscles fixed.
Pressure of braided bowstring
bites deep into calloused ruined fingertips
as they itch to release.
Eyes forward, focused, unwavering,
towards a target who’s heart will know
the strength he holds at its final beat.
Steady….steady….Hold, Hold…
Release….
Fly Free…Fly True…to find death
Draw again
and repeat.
By Philip Wardlow 2013
arrow drawn to cheek as
fletching brushes two day old
stubble.
Right elbow bent, pointed
tight against quiver at back,
tendons taunt with muscles fixed.
Pressure of braided bowstring
bites deep into calloused ruined fingertips
as they itch to release.
Eyes forward, focused, unwavering,
towards a target who’s heart will know
the strength he holds at its final beat.
Steady….steady….Hold, Hold…
Release….
Fly Free…Fly True…to find death
Draw again
and repeat.
By Philip Wardlow 2013
Published 13th Jan 2013
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