Classic poem of the day
Day came. The light lay cold upon
The tarn, the watching mound.
The rushes like ranged frozen spears
Were still. There was no sound.
But on the high rim of the sky
Two clouds like phantoms fell.
They grew; they moved together like
Two armies terrible.
They met; they broke in fire-split smoke —
A red bal......
Member poem of the day
It was sunrise, October.
Karen had just done herself in.
...
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