He reads the forecasts,
with anticipated measure,
like a fan who expects
the grand slam
and the perfect game,

the whole season to rest
on a thimble tip of ice
in an ocean.
To which shore
will the current lead?

Graphs may be colorful,
but only predict.
He watches, decides,
inspired by the whirling frenzy
of the trading floor.

They say you grow old
quickly here. Sometimes
they don't understand.
Twenty years rise and fall.
He still drinks tea.

Bill Trudo
BILL TRUDO currently lives in Chicago, Illinois.  His work has appeared in print in Signal and Niederngasse and online in Melic Review, MiPoesias, Apples & Oranges, Prairie Poetry, and Poetry Superhighway.