She was returning to the gauntlet when
some dolt yee-hawed a horn. She slewed left, fetched
off course, alarmed, towards the misty fen.
I heard the sharp cries of the crowd, and stretched
my ungloved wrist out wide. She landed there
as softly as a stork re-sits its nest.
She gazed at me and I absorbed her stare.
She preened her wind-combed quills, then came to rest
sphinx-still, her eyes a blaze of feral gold.
The handler bustled up to break the charm.
He mentioned luck, unlocked her talon-hold,
and claimed the eagle from my unscathed arm.
Between her wingbeats, Nature spurned the rule
that beauty shows no mercy to a fool.

*****

Margaret Ann Griffiths, aka Maz, aka Grasshopper, was a British poet known almost exclusively for her online work. She had been active on Eratosphere, and when she died in 2009 ‘The Bateleur’ was a frequently mentioned poem by other contributors remembering her. In his Preface and Personal Recollection to her posthumous collection ‘Grasshopper‘ (Arrowhead Press and Able Muse Press), editor Alan Wickes writes: “There is much in the poem that typifies Margaret Griffiths’ art. The subject matter seems both ancient and modern simultaneously. The sonnet itself is wonderfully organised, metre, form and meaning honed into a rich amalgam. Most of all the poem is beautifuly phrased. Maybe it seems a bit far-fetched to suggest the way the startled eagle settles upon the poet’s ungloved wrist is a metaphor for the power of art over nature, nevertheless there is something mythic about the bird’s return. It is a magical piece in the best sense of that over-used word.”

“Bateleur (eagle), Terathopius ecaudatus at Kruger National Park” by Derek Keats is licensed under CC BY 2.0.