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.