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The Treehouse Perched atop the old sycamore it's lasted -- tasted Midwest wet, bet on passing twisters, glowed snow white on shivery nights. Jimmy falls through make-believe space. Home to innocent sparrows, beggar birds, tweeting fun and freedom. Some days were more feathery, almost flighty. Jimmy falls through make-believe space. Pirate's schooner, train, air- plane--planked, chugged with trusty nails, propped with rusty wings, sails skulled and crossed. Jimmy falls through make-believe space. One day it turned dark, dangerous, waiting to be the haunted house, listening for dares, laughs, dives. Jimmy fell through make-believe space.
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