The Woodland Pool - Poem by Helen Buemi
Wings beat concentric circles upon
the dark surface of the Woodland pool.
Circles reaching outward, ever outward.
The struggle, futile against the elements,
beyond his power of understanding.
Death stills the butterfly's wings.
The pool restored to calm, the trees
reflect upon its dark surface
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Helen Buemi's Other Poems
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The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
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