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4797 Part III
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No finer than this morning in the sun,
my only daughter walking by my side.
Six Two Five Two is heading off the run.
What reason could she have that she would hide?
She wants to stop—a question she would pose.
Here are some trees among which we can rest.
She hints about a secret that she knows.
What is she saying? What is her request?
Oh, One who made us, how has she found out
when all who knew had promised not to tell?
I’d planned someday to tell her all about
her birth. I guess today will do as well.
She takes it well; she seems to understand.
By knowing part, she must have been prepared.
But now she wants to see her father’s land
although I told her how her father fared.
©2010 Louis A. Merrimac
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