Check
Tuesday 4 March 2025
poetry
A quiet pause, a moment’s check,
The hand that lifts, the breath that steadies—
A simple tick upon the list,
A whisper of assurance, soft and mild.
In corridors of thought we wander,
Each glance a gentle, sure‑fire probe—
To see if all is still in place,
And peace, like ink, remains unfaded.
