This one’s about
What I DON’T know;
And the nosy neighbor
Fits this flow…

Peeping thru window
Espy-ing all’s moves
Reacting with shock
When others behoove

And gossip about HER—

For keeping abreast
Of the district’s happenings—
The neighbor’s short dress…

Wouldn’t be as bad
If kept to herself.
But she sees and talks,
Which starts a big mess--

Among ALL the neighbors.
She calls scenes in error;
Her judgments are wrong,
She thinks she's a mirror--

Into our souls…
She can tell by our dress,
If we’re terribly happy,
Or miserably distressed...

We called her a fool;
Said life passed her by,
As she peeped and noted,
And saw us all fly

With joy to our tasks,
To seize our desires;
She never learned that
We all left her mired

In idleness…

I chose to write
About what I don’t know
And the nosy neighbor
Fits this flow…

I’ve left that ‘hood now
Long since moved away.
Was told by another
Who visited one day…

With a note of sorrow,
That the nosy’s one there
Still watchful, still catty
Still most unaware…

Much older, not wiser
Though we’ve all moved on,
Still peeping, still guessing,
Now close to death’s song.

We paused for a moment
To remember that time…
When we shared a street
And her window’s prime

View of our space…
How we learned to ignore
Her peepings, her words
And opted to pour

Our energies to being
The best we could be
Stay friendly, work jointly
With neighborly glee

And we got the gifts--
The fine ones in life--
Like friendship, and love…
And shield from that knife

That cuts on two sides
In a gossip’s lifestyle
Wounding its targets…

Stabbing self with its guile.