Wings, a Moonlit Tale – a poem by Jeannie E. Roberts

Wings, a Moonlit Tale

Flashbacks followed each lunar phase; on these mornings,
change had occurred. Human form was never home,
nor was the house on the hill.

Home has wings—not arms, not walls. The forest knew
her spirit and summoned new moon for help. First quarter
waxed keenness of sight; full moon streamed scales

and song; last quarter waned beak, feathers, and wings.
Covered in pine boughs and dew, she awoke to drumming
sounds. Ruffed grouse beat with daybreak’s light.

Wings were the start of this day, and hers began to unfold.
As sun slipped between cedars, it warmed the forest floor.
Fern unfurled as bloodroot revealed its golden center.

She shook her fledgling feathers as strands of auburn
appeared, then dissolved in her remembrance. Transformed
in synodic month, the time had come. Forest smiled,

as she opened her wings, flew above bloodroot and fern,
soared over the house on the hill and sang, Home has wings—
not arms, not walls. Today, at last, my freedom calls!

 

Jeannie E. Roberts has authored six books, including The Wingspan of Things (Dancing Girl Press), Romp and Ceremony (Finishing Line Press), Beyond Bulrush (Lit Fest Press), and Nature of it All(Finishing Line Press). Her second children’s book, Rhyme the Roost!, was recently released by Kelsay Books.

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