[Intro]
Coffee at six.

[Verse 1]
“Colored furniture,” I say.
Sara smirks and looks away.
Green arrow, local brief,
up one place on the page.
“Means nothing,” I tell my cup.
Browser refreshes. “That one’s up.”
Three chairs shift.
I turn back to my notes.

[Chorus]
Green arrow morning,
there it is again.
Nobody says a thing,
two heads turn toward the screen.
I’m not watching.
I just happened to see it.

[Verse 2]
Leo says the transit story’s up.
He says it and keeps typing.
Sara says, “Huh,” then checks again.
No cheer. Just coffee, click, and pen.
I type half a note, then stall.
Refresh by mistake. That’s all.
Someone leans over to check the screen.
Then everyone goes back to typing.

[Chorus]
Green arrow morning,
there it is again.
Nobody says a thing,
two heads turn toward the screen.
I’m not watching.
I just happened to see it.

[Break]

[Verse 3]
Now my story has one too,
small green arrow beside its headline.
Leo’s story moved twice since seven-fifteen.
Mine moved once. Pure routine.
Sara catches me mid-refresh.
“Checking copy.” Not my best.
She takes her coffee, says no more.
I check my arrow once more.

[Bridge]
Nobody jokes for half a minute.
Keys keep moving. Nobody mentions it.
Another story climbs. Sara checks, then Leo.
Two screens refresh almost together.
My cursor sits over refresh again,
before I finish counting to ten.

[Chorus]
Green arrow morning,
there it is again.
Nobody says a thing,
two heads turn toward the screen.
I’m not watching.
I just happened to see mine.

[Outro]
Means nothing.
Clearly.
Coffee’s cold.
I refresh anyway.

[End]