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girlwithbow-and-wolf — Archery
Published: 2011-06-19 01:32:13 +0000 UTC; Views: 79; Favourites: 1; Downloads: 1
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Description
The twang of the stringThe smell of the woods
My breath
In puffs
On the cold air.
The way the bow feels in my hand,
So warm
Pulsing, almost.
Is it alive?
Or just a part of me.
The leather rubs at my right arm,
Leaving the blisters I tend to later,
But the pain does not phase me.
All for the love of the sport.
The cold winter air
Brings me back
To the snow covered forest
In which I have made my
Home away from home.
Breathe in
Breathe out
Taut string
Arrow level
Fingers numb in the cold
Eyes focused
And release.
Comments: 4
-currently pissed i never got the message for this poem- yeah^^ i couldn't tell if this was ur POV or Tuari's. The part about the extension of urself, from my retarded memory i remeber something about a sword master saying a sword is just liked anextension of ur arm. So maybe ts the same thing for archers?
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I like this, you should add this into one of you're stories
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it fits into the guardians
archery is tuari's thing
thanks!
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