Ancient Eagle Press
February 2022 -- Sundae Worship
January 2022 -- Pandemic Polemic
December 2021 -- Shadows
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?
Poem of the Month
Meteorological winter mercifully ended as February expired. Ours was rife with record warm and record cold days. Enough of this nonsense! Let meteorological spring begin! Bring on the bugs! To followers of this site, I have an offer to help you prepare for the warmer weather: While supplies last, you can get my books (including my new field guides to bugs of Northern Virginia) directly from me for about 30% less than the Amazon or bookstore price. Order at https://ancient-eagle-press.square.site/.
This month's Poem of the Month is dedicated to that favorite winter sport: Sleeping. When there's frost on the window pane and snow muffles the night, there's nothing better than a long winter's nap...until you're suddenly awakened and your dream falls to pieces. Even before you can get a proper drink from your bedside water glass or stumble into the bathroom, your dream has fallen apart and evaporated. You try to remember, but it just doesn't come to you. You are left with only a shadow of your dream.
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.
Where Old Fliers Come to Roost
Where do dreams go
When the fabric of sleep is torn
By sound that slices silence,
Or demons that gore in the night?
Where do they fly,
Those people, colors, conflicts, fears,
Hopes, joys, and regrets that are your dreams?
Do they splay into the darkness,
Skitter behind the baseboards,
Dive under the duvet
Like bugs running from the light?
Do you grab at shards of shattered dreams,
Trying to understand? Or, seeking sleep,
Do you struggle to gather the pieces,
Is it Resolution you seek,