Tuesday, November 21, 2017

The Harpist--By Elizabeth Howard--United States

The Harpist

A volunteer brought her harp to the hospice house,
choosing a seat near the room where I was keeping
solemn watch. As she plucked the strings,
my heart’s tears flowed down my face.
Peace pervaded my soul. When she left, she said,
I’ll see you next week. If not, I’ll know
he’s in a better place. I never saw her again,
but I carry with me her blessed music and good heart.
I will ever be grateful for her ineffable gift.

Elizabeth Howard lives in Arlington, Tennessee. Her work has appeared in Comstock ReviewBig MuddyAppalachian HeritageCold Mountain ReviewGreen Hills Literary Lantern, and many other journals.

3 comments:

  1. Thank you, Elizabeth for your moving poem. It's true music gives consolation in times of sorrow. An unexpected gift as you decribed it in your hearwarming poem.

    Best wishes,
    Inge

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  2. How beautiful and touching, Elizabeth! The memory of that harp music will stay with you for ever more! Regards // paul

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