Doubt - Mar 10
To draw the string back, with a notched arrow,
To sense the taut twine pull against and test
The strength of stiffed up shoulders and flexed chest—
But not to loose the arrow at the sparrow;
To aim, to wait, to track through the narrow
Cracks between webbed branches, to feel one’s breast
Beating boldly, and breath deep, slowed, suppressed—
But not to shoot the shot at the sparrow;
Oh the bitter pangs of deeds not done, thoughts
Unsaid—how viciously they gnash and gnaw!
And of duration, long and dreadful are
The laments of a pounding heart’s grim knots.
Ah, what work it is such ice then to thaw,
As that of one who’s soul has missed its star.
Copyright © X F Lacasse | Year Posted 2025
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