SUNSHINE AURA – poetry. short stories. community.

A wet snowflake melted upon his cheek

Outside the cabin he escaped to for the week,

Among elk, moose, wolves and creatures of the wood.

Behind shadowed trees lay a half-frozen creek

Playing a sweet harmony only he understood—

A song with words calling him to the highest good.

They needed his answer, but would it be right?

Clad in green and clutching his bow, he lifted his hood,

Took an arrow and released it, skyward, in flight,

Vowing to alleviate the poor of their plight. 

Maybe he could do it—live a life on the run,

Stealing gold and rubies under the shadow of night.

The rich want for nothing, the poor have none,

The latter’s lives ached for more, each and every one.

He thought:

If I don’t do this, it won’t get done.

If I don’t do this, it won’t get done.