An old street does not boast
though it has carried empires
Its cobbles keep no tally
its lamps no ego
We walk and learn humility
measured in footsteps not banners
Wisdom hides in shopfront dust
in doorways worn by palms
The street says: “All pass
Pride leaves no imprint ”
Only kindness survives
the erosion of trade
When we leave
we bow a little lower
Gratitude is the proper coin
for ancient paths
