Guess Who?

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GUESS WHO?


With little flicks they click face-down: 

the bald one and the mustached man,

the brown-eyed girl in the ermine cap, 

an old chap caught with the pipe

between his lips, smoke drawn upwards

in pencil strokes. Try to guess who’s 

next! This year I’ll age into another turn, 

watch as the crowd continues to thin

around the board's periphery until 

the mathematical probability of a child, 

a spouse, a sibling, rises considerably, 

the cold finger left with only so many 

to pick. It’s a game of suspense, 

of waiting until you must say yes, 

and then a rush like tin-roof rain

as the board flips and everyone stands again.


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