I bit into a candy bar when my mind asked my ears:
What am I doing here, in this park at night? Have you heard anything?
Nothing in reply, which if I was smart I should have known:
Because, ears can only hear, they can't speak
I licked the chocolate along my lips and drew it onto my saliva tongue:
And asked the night above: Are you like these mortal ears: you can hear but you can't speak?
Have you no able tongue? Have you no insightful eyes to guide us?
The sign said:
NO LITTERING
$50 FINE
We must keep our parks clean, my mind said to my hand.
I collected the candy wrapper and discarded things that did not belong to me and put them in the litter basket.
No one would have seen me if I had left the wrapper on the grass.
But it wouldn't have been right.
Whether behind the night sky there are eyes and ears, and tongues that will not speak.
Whether there is a fine to be issued.
No matter, it wouldn't have been right to litter this soil.
Did I hear myself or someone else speak?
That is what I must learn.
