By PETER SCHMITT
It was a little blue purse she had asked for,
my mother, age four, when her father called
from the Mayo Clinic. With a silver chain—
and he had somehow found one in a pawnshop
By PETER SCHMITT
It was a little blue purse she had asked for,
my mother, age four, when her father called
from the Mayo Clinic. With a silver chain—
and he had somehow found one in a pawnshop