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Butterfly

Tom Vandel
Apr 1, 2023
1 min read


Alone atop

A desert bluff,

Hand shading my eyes,

Watching geese do the butterfly

Across the sky, so sure of themselves,

Heads held high, knowing where they’re going,

I crane my neck and sway and wonder,

Am I heading the right way?

How would I know?

I’m no butterfly.


By Tom Vandel


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