If an arrow would do it,
I’d shoot not just one
but a dozen bright arrows
through anything, anything
that makes you feel small.

If an arrow would do it,
I’d practice each day
until I could aim at your fears
and shatter them, spear them,
pierce them through.

Oh love, if an arrow would do it,
I’d slay all your doubts.
I would buy the finest bow.
How useless it feels
to offer you tenderness,

but here is the hand
that would pull back the string,
and here are the eyes
that would find the mark,
and here is the heart
that would do anything
to save you.

by Rosemerry Trommer