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the poetry dialogue

A game of words and beauty played out across the intarweb.

Monday, October 15, 2007

Tiptop

The tiptop tree swayed to and fro,
I clutching to the highest bough,
Found all the world wide open near
But far below; I clung in fear
To the tiptop branch and smooth gray bark,
The jewel green leaves wet and dark,
tickled my exposed and waiting skin
As I watch the tiptop world begin.
Posted by Brad Grenz at 8:08 PM

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