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The Arrow
May 25, 2012
The Arrow
I grabbed the bow, ready to shoot.
The wind blows through my hair as the sun beats down on my face.
I picked up the arrow and glanced at the target.
Although the target was hardly visible, I began to aim.
Before aiming completely, I took a deep breath.
My face was burning in the blazing sun.
If I shoot too early, I was sure to miss.
I aimed and anchored my two fingers on the tip of my lip.
As I aimed, my body began to ache.
I released my fingers and let the arrow take flight.
© Sean C., Princeton, IL
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