Gail White

Passion Spent

My heart, an old and tired cat,
surveying age’s box of toys,
will not uncurl itself for that.

Although the mice are slow and fat
and weakened by avoirdupois,
my heart, an old and tired cat,

no longer dreams of mouse or rat,
and if assailed by sudden noise
will not uncurl itself for that.

A hundred arks on Ararat,
the horses of a thousand Troys —
my heart, an old and tired cat

spurns hero’s crown and cardinal’s hat,
and whether love’s for girls or boys
will not uncurl itself for that.

In time the best champagne is flat,
at last the finest banquet cloys.
My heart, an old and tired cat,
will not uncurl itself for that.