Love in my father's waltz, the facts, night driving, these winter Sundays, dig and dadI chose to analyze seven poems spoken by a child to his mother. Despite a wide variety of feelings, all share a theme: the deep and complex love between the child and his parents. The first poem, “My Daddy's Waltz,” by Theodore Roethke (page 18), presents a clear picture of the young man's front-line father. The "whiskey" on the father's breath is one of many clues that give a rough picture of this uneducated worker, perhaps a European immigrant, as indicated by the "waltz" in the title (line 1) . These traits are not necessarily related. They exist only from the outset in the character of the father. Other signs of roughness are his hand, “struck on one knuckle” (11), and “a palm hard covered with dirt” (14). This is a man who has probably only known back-breaking work. His few escapes probably consist of having a drink or two when he gets home after a hard day and maybe something good on the radio. This idea of ​​the father as an unrefined oaf is further reinforced by his actions. His missed steps hurt the child's ear, while the "frolics" of the father and son cause the pots and pans to slide "from the kitchen shelf" (6). As he "beats time" (13) on the child's head, we see very clearly that he is rather rough and careless with the child, and indifferent to his surroundings. All these factors make the boy's mother very uncomfortable. We can see the disapproval in his face, which “could not manage to disapprove of itself” (8). She is visibly upset but, strangely, does nothing to interfere with the ruckus that is upsetting her. This suggests that the waltz is enjoyable not just for one, but for both parties. One might wonder why the boy enjoys these moments so much. He is obviously a crude and rude man. He probably doesn't flush the toilet. It may even smell bad. Are these reasons to love your father less? Certainly not in the eyes of a little boy. This young man's father may not be the most sensitive or insightful man in the world, but he nevertheless seems to be a hero in his son's eyes. Finally, the son remembers these words: “So you took me to bed/Still clinging to your shirt”(16). After reading this poem, it becomes clear how unconditional a child's love is..