Lewis was the only man I knew
Who could do with his life exactly what he wanted to
But in his mind he was always leaving
Always going somewhere
Always doing something else
These techniques and mystiques had built up him
Something that impressed me a good deal, even so
He was not only self-determined; he was determined
He was one of the best tournament archers in the state
And, even at the age of thirty-eight or -nine,
One of the strongest men I had ever shaken hands with
He lifted weights and shot arrows every day
In a special kind of alternating rhythm
And as a result was so steady
That he could easily hold a sixty-pound bow at full draw for twenty seconds
I once saw him k** a quail with an aluminum target arrow at forty yards,
The arrow diving into the back feathers at the possible instant
So I usually went with him whenever he asked
I had a bow that he helped me pick out,
and a few tags and odds of secondhand equipment,
And it was enjoyable walking in the woods with Lewis,
When the weather was good, as it usually is in our part of the South in hunting season
Because it took place in such pleasant country,
And because of Lewis, I liked field archery
With its faint promise of one day k**ing a deer
Better than golf but it was really just Lewis
He was the only man I knew
Determined to get something out of life
Who had both the means and the will to do it,
And it interested me to see how,
As an experiment, this turned out