The Eagle with Blue Feathers by Kimmery Moss

The Eagle with Blue Feathers by Kimmery Moss

Author: Maggie Devers July 9, 2025 Duration: 3:34

The Eagle with Blue Feathers

Kimmery Moss

He falls asleep connected to me
His little lips on my chest
Hours later he wakes again for more
But I am no longer able
Supplies are low, desires are low
Mother is like an eagle who has been flying too long
I must perch upon my own soul and rest
I sing you to sleep this time
You claw at me and I am wounded
I read somewhere that OM calms babies
It was the first sound of the universe anyhow
How we know something that seems unknowable is irrelevant at four thirty four am
I OM something like twenty seven times before I lay you back down
My shoulder aches from my own doing
My stomach growls even though I filled it just hours before
My heart feels something akin to filling a bucket and simultaneously dumping it on frozen dirt
I will still be myself on the other side of this
though I will be different:
The eagle with blue feathers
Still circling the skies
Eyes on predators, eyes on the next meal
Only he does not want me in the skies
He wants me beside him, he wants me in his mouth, he wants me forever
The comfort is enough to burst my seams
The love is what I dreamt of when I set about creation
I would do it all exactly the way I did if the etch-a-sketch had been erased
had I the need to reckon and reassess
I'd retrace every last line with deft fingers
I'd stretch myself again for my own flesh
I'd feed every feed again, every time
no matter the blur of the hour
It's a wonder if we, mothers, ever feel whole again
our DNA walking the earth outside ourselves
not needing milk any longer
needing their own sustenance now-
the purpose driven gathering of information
every experience sought for its own dopamine goldmine.
Their own wings stretched wide
Their own eyes keen for what they need
It won't be mother soon.
How do I ever look back without longing?
It is true, it is
Time
The baby eagle has been sleeping for minutes already
and I circle still,
The skies are clear, but I circle still.

More from Kimmery Moss ↓


You can listen to me read Kimmery Moss’, I collect first lines of poems, over on Instagram @rembrandts.cure

Mentioned in this episode:

Write After: National Poetry Month with One Poem Only

Write After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice. We'll get started in April. You can share to #WriteAfterOPO.

#WriteAfterOPO


Each day, One Poem Only offers a brief, deliberate pause. Hosted by Maggie Devers, this podcast is built on a simple, consistent premise: a single poem, read aloud, without analysis or introduction. It’s an audio space where the words themselves are the event, a performance meant to be absorbed in the few minutes it takes to hear it. The daily rhythm of the show creates a quiet ritual, a point of reflection woven into a busy life. You might hear a classic sonnet, a piece of modern free verse, or a work from a poet you’ve never encountered. The selection is varied, touching on themes from the natural world to the intricacies of human emotion, always leaving room for your own interpretation. The effect is cumulative; listening regularly becomes a subtle form of education in the sound and scope of poetry, and a small act of self-care. This isn't a lecture or a book club, but a performing art delivered directly to your ears. Maggie’s clear, thoughtful readings provide the only framework needed, allowing each poem to stand entirely on its own. The curtain falls, and the moment passes, but the podcast invites you to return tomorrow when a new piece takes center stage, offering another quiet moment, one poem only.
Author: Language: English Episodes: 355

One Poem Only
Podcast Episodes
Loneliness is a strange dopamine by Dipanwita Dey [not-audio_url] [/not-audio_url]

Duration: 2:56
Loneliness is a strange dopamine Dipanwita Dey Loneliness is a strange dopamine.Slowly, steadily, it consumes existence.Under its spell, it traps, strangulates,murders, and extinguishes.The desperate try to defeat it,unl…
A Boy Moose Ate My Tulips by Erynne DeVore [not-audio_url] [/not-audio_url]

Duration: 3:37
A Boy Moose Ate My Tulips Erynne DeVore i discovered marbles and obsidian buried in my garden next to the worms after a moose ate my tulips“of course it was a boy moose,” someone joked with mei tried not to wake my daugh…
Raindrops by Kunjal Saraswat [not-audio_url] [/not-audio_url]

Duration: 3:16
Raindrops Kunjal Saraswat Raindrops shine under warm lights.I notice it for the first timeAs I sit here—Two hours deepInto this nightWith the rain.Well, not just the rain.It brings its companions:Thunder,Lightning,Shower…
The Anatomy of a Queer Body by Gokul Prabhu [not-audio_url] [/not-audio_url]

Duration: 5:04
The Anatomy of a Queer Body Gokul Prabhu This poem first appeared In Plainspeak.Please tread gently. This poem has potentially disturbing content.I see death, perched at my window.Sometimes, they even sit on the edge of…
Sunday Recap & Episode 200! [not-audio_url] [/not-audio_url]

Duration: 9:59
Here’s your recap of this week’s poems plus one new poem to carry us into the week ahead.Nov 10 - Signs by Defne Kartal @defnewrites on InstagramNov 11 - Sometimes I feel like writing by Junaid Ali Akbar @the.misfitpoet…
"A lousy sunday afternoon when The world had gone" by Aliya Narghese [not-audio_url] [/not-audio_url]

Duration: 2:22
"A lousy sunday afternoon when" Aliya Narghese A lousy sunday afternoon whenThe world had gone, for a momentary slumber Her world fell forever quiet beneath the burning timberAn unwelcome call, a cacophony of cries Looks…
The Altar I Didn’t Know I was Building by Elle Zaspel [not-audio_url] [/not-audio_url]

Duration: 2:32
The Altar I Didn’t Know I was Building Elle Zaspel There’s a small bowl on the bookshelf,not meant for anything in particular.But in it: a cicada shell, a rock from a Hamptons beach,a blurry photo propped up beside them.…
In Another Lifetime by Edyth Grace [not-audio_url] [/not-audio_url]

Duration: 2:23
In Another Lifetime Edyth Grace To an old friend, wherever you are.......In another lifetime,Where the skies are plastered With soft pinks and bluesand golden huesAnd the grass, softer than your skin I once caressed.In a…
"this is not a poem (exactly)" by Tess Ezzy [not-audio_url] [/not-audio_url]

Duration: 1:50
"this is not a poem (exactly)" Tess Ezzy this is not a poem (exactly)but a leaf-fall of words unclaimed—(dear dirt) how softly youlistenand when wind folds the gumtrees intoparentheses (yes)what survives isbreath—a synta…
Sometimes I feel like writing by Junaid Ali Akbar [not-audio_url] [/not-audio_url]

Duration: 2:53
Sometimes I feel like writing Junaid Ali Akbar Sometimes I feel like writing...Writing words that could shake the earth, But how foolish of me to think, That ink could stop the bloodshed. Sometimes I feel like writing...…