A poem to my dad

A poem to my dad
Years ago you took me there to play among the desks
Exalted in my own way, your only child, princess of peaceful  nations,
Running about the halls of world governance,
“They shall beat their swords into plow shares”,
Full of hope for a world that had so recently run amok–
as it would do so again in the pendulum swing of time–
And hope would swing back too,  kind of by the definition of a pendulum and the ways of the world

March 28, 2001

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