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Created on: April 14, 2008
The year
she turned eight,
Jeanette had Grandpa
as her ally.
They read
Homer by firelight
and shared no end
of mischief.
Every morning
she climbed an elm
to crawl into
his open window.
One day
he sprawled
suddenly
on the sidewalk
Everyone crowded
around, fussing,
crying, worrying,
while he moaned.
But, for her
wide brown eyes
only, the old man
telegraphed a covert
wink.
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