My father's doom
When e.e. cummings said his father ``moved through dooms of love'' he knew what he was talking about. Mine did, too.
He was doomed to love and he moved in such a quiet way you knew his love would never change - its warmth would never flare to anger or cool to unforgivingness.
One of his clear blue eyes contained a spot of melting brown. This stood for his sense of humor - unexpected, unconventional.
His gold tooth was a symbol, too. It laughed its differentness amid the expected white.
His individuality didn't doom him, though to instability. He was steadfast and his love was, too.
There was more than a touch of the mother in him - a loyalty tender to the last
with love the only doom to travel through.
