Rendezvous With A Harp
It was too big to take on the subway
so she came to it every day
that winter in the room
where it waited on one foot,
sly seabird.
She sat down and opened her hands,
parted the wings one by one
till it flew ahead of her fingers
singing
the lame foot skidding on gold.
The sun turned its back on the glass
and paled as she sat
obstinate
green-eyed
her foot on its foot
pumping.
The fire died.
Snow hissing at the window.
Above her head a baroque hailstorm
failed in 4/4 time. She sang,
unable to hold the bright hinge
to her heart.
Lame savior she sang.
It bowed as she left
and sat, chastened by scales,
wondering.
Copyright Credit: Carol Muske-Dukes, "Rendezvous With A Harp" from Camouflage. Copyright © 1975 by Carol Muske-Dukes. All rights are controlled by the University of Pittsburgh Press, Pittsburgh, PA 15260. Used by permission of the University of Pittsburgh Press.
Source: An Octave Above Thunder (Penguin Books, 1997)