Cobblestone Geometry

The stone awakens in frost, a mosaic of chilled breath and uneven lines drawn centuries ago by hands that knew the weight of morning.

Light fractures on the slate roofs, sharp angles cutting the pale sky where no clouds linger to soften the architecture of the early hour.

Shadows recede like tide lines, revealing the hollows of the street, an empty stage before the hum begins, measured, quiet, absolute.