Because I wanted to feel like an AmazonI asked my father to build me a bow with arrows.We went to the nearby woods that overlookForest Beach in the village of South Chatham.

My father, sister, and I followedA wavy uphill path to the clearingWhere we found young oak treesWith pointy, strong branches.

We sawed off three branchesThat looked like they would suffice.We carved them and sanded them,And we bent them till they could sing.

By the time we had finished tying the string,The evening chill had descended.We shot our arrows into the darkening skyWhere the stars scampered like red foxes.