Hunch

A hunch, a whisper in the quiet mind,
A flicker of the unseen, half‑formed, half‑blind.
It tugs at thoughts like mist upon the Thames,
A subtle pull that sways our secret aims.

No hard‑won proof, no charted line to trace,
Just instinct’s soft echo in a familiar place.
It guides the heart when logic seems to stall,
A quiet nudge that answers duty’s call.

So trust the hunch that lingers in the grey,
For often it’s the truest light of day.