Ars Poetica

Gail Goepfert

Barred and beating,
the sharp fingers
cut      the air
raise scattered quills
Conjuring trick.   Reptile.
Fallen angel.
Griffon from the pages
of an illuminated bestiary.
like gold falling
through water.
A broken marionette of
light-splashed feathers.
Like a turkey
only turned right-way-up.
An aviary.
Then it was a box.
Now miles of sky
where the sun spreads on dust
water   moving things—
white scraps of gulls.
Startling   newly-stamped.

Macdonald, Helen. H is for Hawk.

Gail Goepfert is an ardent poet, photographer, and teacher. She reads lots of poems as an associate editor of RHINO Poetry. She authored a chapbook, A Mind on Pain, released by Finishing Line Press early in 2015. She’s been nominated for three Pushcart Prizes. Publications past and forthcoming include Blue Lyra, Crab Orchard and Jet Fuel Reviews, Minerva Rising, Found Poetry Review, Room Magazine and Rattle. Her photographs appear online at the Chicago Botanic Garden, Olentangy Review, 3Elements Review and on the cover of February 2015 Rattle. She lives, writes, and snaps photos in the Chicagoland area. More at

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