November 2021 -- The Conceit of Immortality
Nov 2019-Oct 2021 -- On Break
October 2019 -- Deck of Lies
September 2019 - In the Surgery
August 2019 - The Cousins
July 2019 -- Chilly
June 2019 -- The Queen of Malvern
April-May 2019 -- India/Bhutan
March 2019 -- Swatting Gnats
February 2019 -- To My Valentines, Past and Future
January 2019 -- I'll Never Say Goodbye
December 2018 -- Grandpa
November 2018 -- Meditation
October 2018 -- Benediction
September 2018 -- Passages
August 2018 -- Feeding the Beast
July 2018 - One Can Have Knowledge...
June 2018 -- The Unsinkable Molly Drown
May 2018 -- Advice to my Grandson
April 2018 -- Awaiting Idunn
March 2018 -- Flight
February 2018 -- Lakesong
January 2018 -- Schrödinger's Cat
December 2017 -- Daybreak
October 2017 -- Night Watch
September 2017 -- The Princess
August 2017 - Pelham
July 2017 -- Siena
June 2017 -- Loyal, Straight, and True
May 2017 -- A Thousand Flowers
April 2017 -- Oboe Rap
March 2017 - March Madness
February 2017 -- The Cost of Doing Business
January 2017 -- Reflection at a Winter Window
December 2016 -- The Creation
November 2016 -- Hemolymph Moon
October 2016 -- Vortex
September 2016 -- Do You?
Each month Ancient Eagle Press offers a poem appropriate to the season or the mood of our editorial staff. Poems may be new or drawn from existing AEP editions.
December should be a time for Christmas cheer and perhaps an uplifting Christmas poem. However, this is another COVID Christmas, a season of masks and social distancing, at least in this part of the country. We have the Blue and the Red, the masked and the unmasked, the vaxed and, too often, the dying. It is again a season of isolation, of reflecting, of remembering the shadows of our lives.
Poem of the Month
December Poem of the Month
The door in the bedroom opens to a small closet,
Where suits, ties, shirts, and shoes wait,
Not sensing the passage of time,
A museum honoring an earlier, curious life.
Push aside the winter coats,
The suitcase dressed in baggage tags,
There is another door,
A portal to the past.
Filing cabinet, wheelchair,
Papers and lamps,
Dust and memories,
No footprints in the leavings
Of the new shingles,
Five years gone and change.
The house and I are one.
Open me and look inside:
Curiosities from far away,
A museum honoring a curious life.
Push aside the façade and trappings,
Find the table that holds the key,
That opens another door,
A more personal portal to the past.
A room of love and loss,
Sunshine and failures,
With tales untold, memories fading,
Objects illuminated by a flickering candle.
No footprints to disturb
The symmetry of chaos carefully cataloged
Locked tightly away.
Ancient Eagle Press
Where Old Fliers Come to Roost