Facing facts

Finished my archery course last night; it’s been fun, but I think I’ll stick to cycling. If I’d been at Agincourt, you’d now be reading mon blog de poésie. It’s good to explore new things, of course, but after more than 15 years, I haven’t found anything that grabs me by the heart quite like the bike. Still, you never know till you try.


I am no archer;
It is a thing so simple
Yet its subtleties
Elude me.
Though precise, controlled,
So much is left to chance:
The vagaries of wind and wood;
The smallest inconsistency
Of draw, aim or loose
Scattering arrows like dropped sticks
While Pythagoras’ ghost
Smiles and nods.

Standing side-on,
Pointing at perfection
I freeze, pulled tighter
Than the bow itself,
And in letting go the string
Find no release.
So I will come down
Strip off my tab and bracer
And seek softer targets
In my own world of wheels,
Where I can do a hundred things at once
And well
Without a moment’s thought.

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