my father moved through dooms of loveE. E. Cummings – 1894-1962 my father moved through dooms of lovethrough sames of am through haves of give,singing each morning out of each nightmy father moved through depths of height this motionless forgetful whereturned at his glance to shining here;that if (so timid air is firm)under his eyesContinue reading “My father moved through dooms of love : : by E.E. Cummings : : Fathers Poems : :”