The Relativity of Age

The Day
by Donald Hall
Last night at suppertime I outlived my father, enduringthe year, month, day, hour, and momentwhen he lay back on a hospital bed in the guest roomamong cylinders of oxygen — mouth open, nostrils and paleblue lips fixed unquivering. Father of my name,father of long fingers, I remember your dark hair and your face almost unwrinkled. Now I have wakedmore mornings to frost whitening the grass,read the newspaper more times, and stood more times,my hand on a doorknob withou...