Reich Junker

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The Best Poem Of Reich Junker

To The Witch In Your Kitchen

Isn't it strange?
Aren't you in awe?
The way your mother cooks rice,
With an empty tin can,
She scoops the grain,
With her calloused hands,
She conjures mathematicians,
Both living and dead,
To create proportion,
Between water and rice,
Magic flows from her knuckles;
Her breath starts a fire,
Not to burn but to give life,
To feed mouths and souls all the same.

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