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


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