Walk on the living, they don’t even mumble, Walk on the dead, they mutter and grumble. What are they?

Walk on the living, they don’t even mumble, Walk on the dead, they mutter and grumble. What are they?

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Take one out and scratch my head I am now black but once was red.

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When the horse strokes the cat, the wood begins to sing.

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A harvest sown and reaped on the same day In an unplowed field, Which increases without growing, Remains whole though it is eaten Within and without, Is useless and yet The staple of nations.

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As soft as silk, as white as milk, as bitter as gall, a thick green wall, and a green coat covers me all.

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I heard of a wonder, of words moth-eaten. That is a strange thing, I thought, weird. That a man's song be swallowed by a worm. His blinded sentences, his bedside stand-by rustled in the night - and the robber-guest. Not one wit the wiser. For the words he had mumbled.

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Riddle of the Day

Mar 17, 2026

If it’s information you seek, come and see me. If it’s pairs of letters you need, I have consecutively three. What am I?

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