The Eagles’ Songs

The woman who knows
the eagles’ songs
doesn’t need a mare between her legs
to taste speed.
She rides the wind past cliff and spire,
beyond gray shore, where waves’ hiss
plays harp to curlews’ cry.
The woman who knows
the eagles’ songs
will not wait for you,
though she may let you
fly beside her for a while.
She will not bend like iron
in the blacksmith’s fire of your desires.
Her ululations seed the clouds.
If her music grasps you in its talons
she will not let you go.
— Sandi Leibowitz
Sandi Leibowitz, author of The Bone-Joiner and Eurydice Sings, writes speculative fiction and poems that may be found in Devilfish Review, Metaphorosis, Liminality, Mythic Delirium, Kaleidotrope and other magazines and anthologies. Her poetry has won second and third place Dwarf Stars awards, and has been nominated for the Rhysling, Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net awards. She recently created Sycorax Press, a micropress devoted to speculative poetry focusing on fantasy, and is working on the first issue of the related online magazine, Sycorax Journal. An elementary-school librarian, she also sings classical and early music. She lives in a raven’s wood, next door to bogles, in New York City. Sandi invites you to visit her online at
Editor’s Note: The poet said “The blacksmith’s line is…meant it to be the very antithesis of the nature imagery of the woman. It’s manufactured and hard in addition to being literally bent out of shape.”
The image of an eagle flying through music notes is symbolic.