the last one with my name on it

Little Lord Love, he with the arrows,
has definitely shot the last one
     with my name on it
straight to the heart
now, when I'm no longer young
and it's not so easy to stay up half the night
talking and so on.

Little Lord, frolicsome boy,
why did you wait until now?

[Mary Oliver {1935-2019}, 'Little Lord Love' from Blue Horses: Poems]