I’d have you known! It puzzles me forever

To hear, day in, day out, the words men use,

But never a single word about you, never.

Strange!—in your every gesture, worlds of news.

On busses people talk. On curbs I hear them;

In parks I listen, barbershop and bar.

In banks they murmur, and I sidle near them;

But none allude to you there. None so far.

I read books too, and turn the pages, spying:

You must be there, one beautiful as you!

But never, not by name. No planes are flying

Your name in lacy trailers past the blue

Marquees of heaven. No trumpets cry your fame.

Strange!—how no constellations spell your name!