poem of the day August 17

The debutantes 

were driving

down the long

and open road

They were flirting 

with perfection

a heavy hearted load

They danced around

the circle likes bulls 

before the fight

both armed with

foolish arrows

full of temporary light

The bow pulled back

The strike began

hard so very cold

and where they hit

they did not miss 

their mark 

or so I'm told