Sundays too my father got up early
And put his clothes on in the blueback 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?
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Comments
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this is a great poem of hayden remembering back to his childhood. When he didn't appreciate the love his father gave them. The love wasn't emotional it was in things he did for them. He worked hard, woke up everymorning when it was freezing and started the tedious fire to warm the house while everyone got ready for church.
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This was the poem that inspired me to begin writing. There is something so tremendous in the word "blueback." I don't see how anyone could read that word and not get a sense, from a single word, of the entire poem. "Blueback" is "Those Winter Sundays." It pulls the poem.
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i read this poetry when joined a literrary class in my college. in this poetry i got quite beneficial message.
it seems that Hayden experienced this when he was still young and he just realized when he has grown up.
the love of a father, a hard working father who tried his best to pleased his family.
however, what a family needs is not just materials but also love that is shown not through money or any other things, but also togehtherness.
but here i also can learn as a child who still has father to appreciate him more.
what a touching poem from Hayden... -
When I read this I felt that it was sort of like a journal entry, that it was a personal piece for Hayden and that perhaps my eyes weren't supposed to be reading it.
Of course he published it, so he invited not only my eyes but other eyes as well to view -- or perhaps he didn't publish it and it was published after his death -- which ever, it seems quite personal.
It's like an evocation of love and loss entwined as one entity. That's the emotional and perceptual inlook I got when reading this piece.
A great piece that Hayden has written here.
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