All They Talk About Is You Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

to those spoken About while they are still in the room
who wave back then find they were waving at someone else, not you.
to those left alone at parties at the punch bowl.

on the stairs
eating fishsticks
on special occasions

watching dog tricks on TV

to those who save only their imagination
for a rainy day and spend freely
on what they believe in

happy when the Easter candy goes on sale.

to those censured for being too quiet too stale
too vocal too whatever it is they are that
they are in fact made of

to those forced to stand down from the shade
at picnics or called in for the fifth interrogation
this week for rules infringed that

only that moment exist
to those with the wrong perfume at the wristwho try to make the most of this, their being out of place=

I have heard (oh human race!) the night birds singing
in the lovely orchards under moonlight.
under starfall perfect jeweled symphonies dropped

into the World, unheard:

and seen and seen the elm and the alder trees sway
in love with the winds of God:

and all they talk about is you
all they talk about is you.

mary angela douglas 27 april 2015