The Damselfly a poem in rhyming couplets of iambic heptameter Remember when, as larvae, we would swim beneath the pond, delightedly oblivious to airy life beyond? For winters three, our iced reflections watched us in reverse; This surface formed the upper limit of our universe. And Now? We have these wings, two fragile pair apiece, We flitter through the atmosphere directed by caprice, But always staying close to water. Why? Have you regrets? Is something in the ripples 'neath our shadowed silhouettes? There's no return; we have exchanged our water ways for light and speed and flitting names like Midget Whisp and Flamehead Sprite. Our change confronts us with this irreversibility; What we have lost has been replaced by sleek agility. Aurora Bluetail, Eastern Dart dismiss your lingering doubt. Your lot was cast when first you heard those dancing names called out. This irridesence effervescent; lo, this flight is slight; In air, we flicker scarcely longer than a brief fortnight. And here, we settle in the mud while waiting for the end, I ask you now, "Which one would you prefer to try again: Three years submerged beneath the algal blanket of the pond, Or these past weeks of dashing headlong toward the great beyond?"