For Anna: You, and Me

I noticed in conversation the other day
that I say they, not we,
for the Scots, the English, everyone –
my family even –
and not only that, but they
say you, say he.

Of course, I am not – or no longer – “one of us”.
(Was I ever?)
And of course I am not – or not yet – “one of them”.
Sometimes I feel like a thistle grafted on
to the end of some sweet and slender
(but quite, quite thornless)
exotic stem.

I noticed in conversation the other day
that when I say we I mean you, my love,
and me.