Longbow, Lowtide Poem by A.Z. McCoy

Longbow, lowtide
Lone archer among
The rolling dunes and sand,
Barefoot,
His quiver unstrung,
To reach without seeing
Hawk feathers cherished around
The arrow's nock to guide hollow

In the distance, he watches
For dream peaks somewhere
Over far shore, through
Sulphuric mist to the horizon
A lost kiss breathed yesterday,
Love between ocean, sky, and earth

Aims steady through
A stir of mind, he listens only
To Harmony whisper songs of bliss
Fishermen lose in their nets
Crowned in the tension flexed
To bow's shape
A taut fiber resists.
He pulls and holds
Everything in a moment of
Blinding seven suns

To a last target he knows
Only exists on astral
Maps without cardinal,
The runes and demarcations
Read by children and followed
On long trails
Brought to release
Of the gulls scattering in chase
With a last arrow
That laughs lost in sunlight,
Nock without tremble,
Quivered in flight
Against the slow creak
Of land's hinge.