To The Refugees Scattered Like Starlight And Weeping Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

watching us say goodbye perhaps the old ghosts were
or maybe no one but God
unable to say anything anymore in any language

no longer indoors with the heat from green radiators rising

shipped out on the trains what you will take with you
a necklace of opals they will confliscate later
your tears are opals too perhaps that thought will come

to you, later when they have taken everything.
turning points in history are this way
no one likes to talk about it really.

it seems such a normal day. the same blue sky
you're used to, the birds in the morning.
then suddenly it's all over turned

you werent even warned in a dream
the stamping of boots the only music left
the weeping soul from the other souls bereft.

mary angela douglas 4 march 2020