As the snow falls to the ground, he begins to shiver.
The bowman pulls the arrow from his quiver.
He stands steady ready to fire.
When the ice hitting the rocks, start to sound like a choir.
He stops to listen to the music it makes.
The arrow is pulled taught and his handshakes.
His coat is covered with fresh snow.
He puts down the arrow and the bow.
A deer comes out of the woods and stops.
The bowman looks right as his hand drops.
He can’t raise the bow for the kill.
It is so beautiful he knows he has the skill.
The winter has come and brought a new life.
Washed away all of the pain and strife.
Happiness is pure and full of dreams.
His life is no longer coming apart at the seams.