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The Day Has Come When My Mother
- University of Pittsburgh Press
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33 The day has come when my mother no longer knows me. It comes on a day of dying paperwhites, crumpled like words torn from a typewriter. Weightless, they scatter, generous as sighs, across the table, the patio, where the attendant wheels her, leaning into the dead weight of her, through so many blossoms it actually looks like snow. � The Day Has Come When My Mother ...