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.

Poem of the Month

September 2018

The last hurrah!  Labor Day marks the “official” end of Summer.  Although our local children started back to school two weeks ago, most schools start in earnest next week.  This is the last weekend for families and kids to grab paddle boards, kayaks and canoes and spend a lazy afternoon drifting on the lake in our back yard.  Over the next month they will slowly disappear, until the lake is all ours again.  The families, the laughing kids, the fishermen, migrating like birds until Springtime calls them back.  We treasure the quiet of Winter, but will miss our warm weather guests.  It’s all part of the cycle, as another Summer “officially” comes to an end.  Our Poem of the Month, from an earlier collection, is a recognition of cycles and “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?

  August 2016 -- Sailing
  July 2016 --  Mulberries
  June 2016 -- Off Tucker Point
  May 2016 -- Unforgettable
  April 2016 -- At Night She Cries

Ancient Eagle Press


A season has passed since you walked these grounds.
   The pond has shed her fishnets and dressed in gossamer,
   Put on iris ear loops of purple and yellow,
   Cinched her waist with water lettuce and hyacinth,
   A water lily blooming at her cheek;
   Snow bells have come and gone,
   Crocus and jonquils in their wake;
   May apples, trout lilies, coral bells flirted briefly beneath the oaks;
   Tiny chestnut and giant peony buds opened and delighted;
   Ginger and violets, dandelions and grasses have painted the lawn,
   As poplar and crepe myrtle splashed yellows and reds against the sky.
   And now, as crystal summer yields to misty autumn,
   I watch the world prepare for winter sleep, resting to begin again
   The timeless dance across these grounds where once you walked.

   Lee Alloway

   from "The Ant Farm," 2011