The market down 131 points

Like today’s markets our hearts bottomed out
not in sympathy to those won or lost
nor those busted out, sure-broken from doubt,
but for one who remains, harried and tossed.
He chose his friends from kindness as his stocks
yet now the bell is rung on a dead day
for though they held, held fast like faithful rocks
they were men and faltered and fell away.

What rhythm’s left? What ragged rise and fall?
What empty planets whirl around the sun
with orders on the line to put and call
and the last man pinned under a mountain.