Poetry

Strew

Strew The wind will strew the amber leaves Across the quiet lane, A tapestry of russet gold That settles on the pane. Children laugh and strew their dreams Like confetti in the

Prove

In the hushed lab of contemplation, We chase the proof that grounds our speculation, Each hypothesis a careful thread, Woven ’til the evidence is firmly spread, Till doubt recedes like tide from shore, And truth

Dimly

Dimly the streetlamp sighs, A halo of amber caught in mist, Shadows drape the cobblestones, Whispering secrets the night resists. In the quiet room, a candle flickers, Its flame a shy, uncertain gaze, Thoughts drift like

Mocha

A cup of mocha waits in quiet steam, Its dark‑brown hue a warm, inviting gleam. Rich cocoa swirls with espresso’s sigh, A velvety blend that reaches sky. The aroma drifts, a sweet,

Linked In, Dropped Out

In the glossy feed of LinkedIn, where titles gleam like polished tin, I scroll past CEOs and their lofty claims, while my own page bears a different name. I dropped out of

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