Poem of the Day (POTD) Winner for April 15th, 2025
gently on the roof water marches as rice grains, manna from heaven attend our homeland, exiled clouds pour your romance onto cracking earth. Our poor scorpions, in bellies of hot, dormant wells raised their generations. Shamans still dance in rings, arousing bands of blessing. Timbre grows, grains gaining size, dusty dreams refreshing.
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