You do not currently have permission to view the full text for this document. Please sign in to an account with an active subscription or contact support.
I sit in my father's armChair, David in my lap, lostIn the hospital—My father too weakTo ring for help. “WhatTime is it?” he asked.“8 o'clock.” “8 o'clock!I thought it was later!” ITurn him in his bed and heTouches my face, his fingers