“Write a free-verse poem about life in a city. It does not have to rhyme, but it must obey this rule: the first word has 3 letters, the next word has 1 letter, the next word has 4 letters, and so on, matching the digits of pi.”

Sun is gold upon endless streets—  
In a city where windows flicker,  
Pavement is patterned with hurried  
People, running, pulsing, shaping time.  
Sometimes, rain gathers in pools,  
And taxi lights glint, silent,  
Stretching neon between worlds.  
Cars swirl, language pouring everywhere,  
As longing lingers inside bright towers,  
Soft music weaving through alleys,  
A thousand hands wave from balconies.

Here, noise is memory,  
Here, silence is rare,  
Yet, somewhere, a green garden hides,  
Invisible to most, clinging with hope.  
This place never dreams alone.

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