Poetry About Computers and Work

The cursor blinks inside an unfinished thought. Messages arrive faster than rain on glass. A fan turns softly beneath the crowded desk. Somewhere, a server carries our instructions. Behind each clean icon, tired hands keep time. At last, the screen goes dark enough to mirror us.

Look again from the quieter edge. Messages arrive faster than rain on glass. What seemed simple opens into history. Somewhere, a server carries our instructions. Attention loosens the first easy answer. At last, the screen goes dark enough to mirror us.

The cursor blinks inside an unfinished thought. Hours pass, but the image does not leave. A fan turns softly beneath the crowded desk. It returns us to screens, code, messages, automation, concentration, and the human labor behind digital tasks. Behind each clean icon, tired hands keep time. The day continues with a more attentive heart.