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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.

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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.

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