(February/'47 / Connecticut, USA)

Wouldn'T It Be Impolite?

Is there anything done,
That a peeping tom does not see?
Is there anything that goes unanalyzed,
By those wishing to copy every detail spied?

Could there be an independent thought,
By the one who verbalizes...
Each syllable heard brought to their attention?

Is there any point in mentioning,
An annoyance felt by those whispering...
Within one's listening distance?

'What is it that he writes now? '

~It is hard to tell.
You are breathing on the lense of the binoculars.~

'It appears that he is waving.
Who does he wave to? '

~If I am not mistaken,
He is looking in our direction.~

'What should we do? '

~Keep pretending we are not here.~

'But wouldn't it be impolite?
If we did not wave back? '

~We are spying on him.~

'This may come as a disappointment to you,
I think what we are doing,
He already knows.'

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