Fletching – A Short Narrarative

IMG_00000401It is your child.
Cradled about your fingers, gently.
You control it,
Shape it,
Riddle it with great expectations.

Then it slips;
From your grasp, into the world it flies.
You hope it will land on its mark,
That you have found it’s strength.
That you have prepared it for the winds it may encounter.

It must find flesh,
It must find meaning.
You must have a legacy.

Isaac Olajos

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