Harpist

     
At The Banff Springs Hotel


She sat alone
in halls of stone
harp cradling

blue gown
gold trimmed round
gently falling

blond hair long
in slanted sun
by gothic window
glistening

head bowing
fingers dancing
plucking

flinging melodies
aloft
in minstrel offerings. . .

and rising soft
from her white throat
a golden song
a mornful note

a Celtic lay
of ancient loves
undoings. . .