Old Men in a Club

HERE they forgather when the trading’s done.
Groups form in corners as the twilight passes.
Has the day been a profitable one?
Olives glisten in cocktail glasses.
Is the market disturbed from Washington?
The twilight deepens; electric candlesticks
Glow here and there as others wander in.
A noisy corner argues politics.
Yon dozing dotard, prone, with sagging chin,
He stroked the Cambridge crew in ’eighty-six.
Loud laughter, startling, signals wantonnesses,
The latest gossip’s lush salacities.
One whom it has amused but yet distresses
Wanders away. Another slaps his knees,
Obsessed with that he no longer possesses.
In time a mellow fellowship appears,
Spirits a waned virility begetting.
Some off to dine, others to scan the years
With reminiscent anecdotes — and setting
Flat words like tombstones over dead ideas.
R. S.