Without Sorrow
Stiff was the stringed bow as it was laid to rest
Upon the pile of ferns after a long hard test
The quiver empty and the arrow about
The beast had fought, yes it was stout
A hunger had settled upon my community
Til it was left only to me to do what I could see
To make it through the winter
A puff of smoke from my mouth stood starkly in the air
Reminded me of last night's frost and the snow in my daughter's hair
It's not a woman's place to hunt for her families table
A husband lost to a war so unstable
The blood stood bright against the white of the snow
Warm almost comforting against the sudden cold
I cut and I skinned right straight to the bone