It seems more today are minding their own business.
And caring less if noticed doing it better,
Than they never thought they could.
Some are overheard to say convincingly.
Without noses to sniff.
Eyes to snoop.
Or a wish to gossip.
As if on a mind cleansing diet.
With a doing their best,
To disguise and hide their withdrawal symptoms.
And this is not easy for some to do.
Especially for the ones,
Walking around their neighborhoods with binoculars.
Strapped to their necks.
And pretending to have new hobbies,
In low flying birds landing to perch...
On trees.
Coincidentally,
Near the homes of their neighbors.
To then find themselves attempting to explain,
How it is they have been seen...
Climbing down from the trees.
Or jumping off their limbs and branches,
Long after the Sun has set.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem