A Final Ease

Barry Spacks

After the vaunting reach for gold, 

 feeling no need for a curtain-call, 

 I'd leave the stage with ardor cooled 

 as Sisyphus, at the foot of the hill, 

might give it all up, the crazy rote 

 of shove and sweat he'd always known, 

 cease with a smile, light a cheroot, 

 and sit down on his stone.