Date with a Muse- David Wagoner

I smile across the intimate table
 Where the waiter had laid the silver,
   The ingeniously folded napkins,
And the gleaming crystal,
  Where I've set the Tiffany gift-box
    To be opened later. She regards me
Remotely with poise
 Of the queen of a distant country
   Expecting something bizarre
From a savage suitor. I tell her
 She is beautiful. She mutters, That goes
   Without saying. I ask her
Over the open menu whether
 Anything, anything at all tonight
   Seems tempting, and the dim
Romantic light grows dimmer
 As she answers listlessly
    She isn't hungry. Listen then
For a moment please this music,
 I whisper. Shall we dance?
    She smiles vaguely and murmurs,
No thank you, not this evening,
 And the space between us yawns
   As wide as the empty dance floor.