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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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