My fathera#39;s death was one such aquot;occasionaquot; for poetry which announced itself with no room for choice. Though my ... death. I hammered it out in solitude, first reading all the other elegies I could find, and Dantea#39;s Purgatorio, and then forgetting them. ... I cried at his memorial service the first time I read it aloud, and in lesseninganbsp;...
|Title||:||Greatest Hits #255|
|Publisher||:||Pudding House Publications - 2007|