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The Branch
A lofty tower looming above the others
A tall man who sticks up above the rest in a crowd
A tree rising above the shrubs in the mighty forest
It is green and brown and smooth
It waves gently in the passing breeze
It holds the brave, unfurling leaves on its horizontal boughs
There are two
There are two almost the same
There are two, one only a bit taller than the other
I see a bee buzz around the stalks
I smell the minty scent of the hearty company
I feel the wrinkled bumps of the greenery
Weathered wood as a backdrop
Departed leaves as a carpet
As it sits atop its restless sea of green
The branch on the bush
Such a simple thing, really
Yet it seems so regal and prideful and grand as it surpasses all in height and overtakes all in glory