Robert Hayden was an African American poet who lived in Michigan. In his early twenties, he received his degree in literature from the University of Michigan. Much of his work revolved around his own personal experiences with civil rights, including the history of emancipation and slavery.
Those Winter Sundays
Sundays too my father got up early
And put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
Then with cracked hands that ached
From labor in the weekday weather made
Banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.
I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he’d call,
And slowly I would rise and dress,
Fearing the chronic angers of that house,
Speaking indifferently to him,
Who had driven out the cold
And polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
Of love’s austere and lonely offices
In Those Winter Sundays, Robert
Hayden's melancholy tone portrays the Son's regretful actions towards his
father. Just like many of us, we never fully appreciate the sacrifices
our parents make for us until it is too late.
This poem portrays the universal relationship between parents and their
children. The first paragraph of the poem describes the Father waking up early
on a cold Sunday morning to begin the day’s work. The Son tells the
readers that the Father is worn down from the week's laborious work, and he
receives no thanks for the sacrifices he makes for his family, resulting in the
Son's regret for his lack of appreciation his Father after all he had done for
him. The Son moves on and tells us his father would make a fire
every morning and wake him up when the house was warm. Although the fire
brought the family physical warmth, it also gave them despair because it
was a sign of the endless routine of the daily work of the father. In the
final paragraph, the Son gives us more acts the Father did for the Son like
polish his shoes. However, in spite of
the kindness of the Father, the Son remembers his indifferent attitude towards
his father. Unfortunately, the Son did
not realize his Father’s selfless efforts until he passed away. In the end, the Son has to live with the
regret of never showing his Father the appreciation he rightfully deserved.
Sundays too my father got up early
And put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
Then with cracked hands that ached
From labor in the weekday weather made
Banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.
I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he’d call,
And slowly I would rise and dress,
Fearing the chronic angers of that house,
Speaking indifferently to him,
Who had driven out the cold
And polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
Of love’s austere and lonely offices
And put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
Then with cracked hands that ached
From labor in the weekday weather made
Banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.
I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he’d call,
And slowly I would rise and dress,
Fearing the chronic angers of that house,
Speaking indifferently to him,
Who had driven out the cold
And polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
Of love’s austere and lonely offices
In Those Winter Sundays, Robert
Hayden's melancholy tone portrays the Son's regretful actions towards his
father. Just like many of us, we never fully appreciate the sacrifices
our parents make for us until it is too late.
This poem portrays the universal relationship between parents and their
children. The first paragraph of the poem describes the Father waking up early
on a cold Sunday morning to begin the day’s work. The Son tells the
readers that the Father is worn down from the week's laborious work, and he
receives no thanks for the sacrifices he makes for his family, resulting in the
Son's regret for his lack of appreciation his Father after all he had done for
him. The Son moves on and tells us his father would make a fire
every morning and wake him up when the house was warm. Although the fire
brought the family physical warmth, it also gave them despair because it
was a sign of the endless routine of the daily work of the father. In the
final paragraph, the Son gives us more acts the Father did for the Son like
polish his shoes. However, in spite of
the kindness of the Father, the Son remembers his indifferent attitude towards
his father. Unfortunately, the Son did
not realize his Father’s selfless efforts until he passed away. In the end, the Son has to live with the
regret of never showing his Father the appreciation he rightfully deserved.
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