REPLETE with food, now satiate, somnolent,
He settles in the armchair with his port,
Lights a cigar and, like a runner spent,
Puffs as he turns from stock reports to sport.
With love-refracted reminiscent eyes
Wistful and timidly she watches him;
Her heart peers through the cruel years’ disguise
And sees a youth, eager, erect and slim.
Out of the lamplight on the windowpane
He comes to meet her as she once adored him,
Leading his charger by the bridle rein,
His other hand outstretched to draw her toward him.
And thus she stands a moment, while her heart
Beats with the ticking clock. She turns her head.
He nods while reading, hardly hears her part.
‘Good night, my dear, I think I’ll go to bed.’
R. S.