NUMBER 6 FATHERS
my father moved through dooms of love through sames of am through haves of give, singing each morning out of each night my father moved through depths of height
this motionless forgetful where turned at his glance to shining here
- e.e. cummings
Father, father, where are you going? O do not walk so fast. Speak father, speak to your little boy Or else I shall be lost.