While Others Weep Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

I had a dream that everything I sent
came back to me, postage unpaid;
report cards with a missing grade

and in the eyes, a missing glint
and jurisdictions that
had questioned my intent

while I was merely dreaming;
unfinished schemes and blueprints on command
sent to me by mistake

or by some angel's hand
of imperial warning
knowing how I was

partial to the truth

of all the behind the scenes,
the too sudden shifts in the scenery
crashing down on me:

the gleam in their eyes unearned.

but we mowed down all the miracles,
they moaned in a crafty sleep
while God

swept through the house
turning over their furniture:
'all that furniture that you've accumulated.

while others weep.'

mary angela douglas 23 july 2016