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May 11. 2026
I stand in rows but never march, I wear green crowns in every arch. In spring I bloom, fauna I feed, a quiet kingdom grown from seed. People wander through my land, plucking my treasure by the hand.
May 11. 2026
I stand in rows but never march, I wear green crowns in every arch. In spring I bloom, fauna I feed, a quiet kingdom grown from seed. People wander through my land, plucking my treasure by the hand.