I got a new bow and some arrows with a point.
I warmed up every muscle and joint.
Looked for a target and found me the Sun,
If I hit that, I’d be inferior to none.
Careful aim and just enough tension
To ensure my arrow’s adequate ascension.
The zenith is where my arrow flies to,
The day is still as it flies to the blue.
Staring at the sun, my arrow grows smaller,
Into the body of an incandescent dollar.
I stare and I wait, for what, I don’t know,
All of a sudden I feel a sharp blow.
Shooting at the Sun is not that smart, I confess,
At least depth perception is unnecessary in chess.