Like medals with their ribbons
A five hairs beard of wisdom
And victory filled up
Answer:
Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.
I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he’d call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,
Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good
Answer:
3. Ran faster than the speed of sound
<span><span>appreciate
</span><span>comprehend
</span><span>divine
</span><span>figure out
</span><span>grasp</span></span>
If you need a basketball, you can borrow our's.
