A thin green stick spun crooked

from a homemade bow,

the sharpened tip lost in the sun

at the apex of its arc.


The boy who chopped the stick

told the tree he needed an arrow

to reach a certain place up high

his arm was too short to touch.


The arrow fell back through his dotage

where he mourned he had not touched

the place he aimed the stick to reach

and apologized to the tree he cut.