In the clearing
Away from prying eyes
A man has dallied too long
And missed the best of the light.
He has strung that bow
Ten thousand times or more
But see how his hand shakes
The effort almost beyond him.
Where once his aim
Was true and straight
To the heart of a target,
Another knows
Now he pulls back
Too aware of the tension,
Cannot wait
Does not care where his last arrow goes.