Father: Every Morning of His Life by Donal Mahoney

Father: Every Morning of His Lifeby Donal Mahoney The cup he took his tea fromall those years was Army surplus,made of tin. It whirred to the spoon he wound in it15 times per lump of sugar.We who slept in rooms just off the kitchen rose like ghoststo the winding of that spoon.In my house, now, […]

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