Poem of the Month

The last time I saw you, I can’t recall.
You were always there, then you weren’t
For a day. For a week. Forever.
Did you follow the sun and forget to return,
Or lose your way over stormy seas?
Did you find a home in a gentler place,
Greeting a softer morning with your song.
Are you happy and safe? If so, I rejoice.
(You, so small and tentative,
Aloft in a callous world.)
Still, I bring you offerings every day,
Watch, not hopeless,
And regret only
That I never said goodbye.

Lee Alloway 2018

March 2018

Not content to come in like a lion, March came roaring is like an entire pride of lions hopped up on caffeine and fermented mangos! I watched a bald eagle flying backward over the lake. His wing beats were no match for winds gusting over 60-miles per hour, and his efforts to fish among the white caps were not rewarded. Even the deer who appear in our yard dependably kept hunkered down in the brush for two days. Tomorrow I’ll clean up debris, fill the bird feeders and await the return of the many 1-ounce wonders that somehow survived the storm. For now, I'll offer this belated Poem of the Month: Flight.

Where Old Fliers Come to Roost

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.