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To R.M.

By Richard E. Mcmullen / November 16, 1983



How could I know that all the cars in Washtenaw County would line up, lights grinning, to follow me in to work? that a real sun would show up in March? that driving in to Ann Arbor I'd sing ''Blue Skies'' better than Crosby or Sinatra? I decided to write a dedication poem, my first one, as soon as I woke. To myself.

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