Vol 4 No 1 2010

Four O’clock Tea at Harrison Hot Springs Hotel

The chairs leaned up against the glass table
covered by an opaque white umbrella
the patio empty except at our window
where we sit over cups of tea and a square
of chocolate cake clinging on the saucer’s edge.
A glass globe hangs outside and is
suddenly assailed by a hummingbird—
No! There are at least three, and one
hovers, waits its turn at the sweet red
water blossoms. I am reminded of Delhi,
the Uberoi hotel, tea on the grounds, the white
and red turbaned waiters bringing trays of
tea and thin cucumber sandwiches as we sat
in the shade along the edges of the lawn.
When I was four, and seven twittering
birds landed nearby, my mother
explained they are called satht-bai—
the seven brothers, since they travel as
a small flock. Travelers, like us.

Ned BalboAnn Fisher-WirthKuldip Gill
Diane LockwardCatherine StrisikKathleen Winter

In Memorium: Kuldip Gill (1934-2009)

Four O’clock Tea at Harrison Hot Springs Hotel

Almost a Glosa—for Jim

Kuldip Gill