Those Winter Sundays

Those Winter Sundays

by Robert Hayden

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?

Tone: The tone is grave and somber. Although the poem is clear and easy to understand, it adds a heavy weight to it. The tone really helps the reader dissect the poem.

Word Choice: The word choice in "Those Winter Sundays" is critical for the understanding of the poem. It'd be one thing to write "my father got up when it was cold outside." It is another thing to write with excruciating detail that he "put his clothes on in the blueblack cold, then with cracked hands that ached from labor." Other short phrases like "the cold splintering, breaking" and "chronic angers of that house" distinguishes this poem from others about hardship.

Imagery: The first stanza makes me imagine a frail old man rising at the crack of dawn with shivers crawling up his spine. I imagine him curling his toes and rubbing his arms for warmth. The last sentence, "no one ever thanked him," forms the picture of him with deep wrinkles and a permanent frown, wearing not a scowl but a melancholy expression that imprints itself onto your soul.

Symbols: The most prominent symbol I identified was temperature. The beginning of the poem describes the deathly cold that seems to cut the air. However, as the poem moves forward, the temperature seems to rise, finishing off with warmth. "The rooms were warm" and "driven out the cold" further this notion.

Theme: When you evaluate "Those Winter Sundays", you will find that the themes of love and sacrifice are found at the core. The love we see in this poem is communicated quitely and without much fanfare. It is not expressed with laughter and embraces but with the sacrifice of getting up at dawn. This love is exhausting but worthwhile. Along with that, it can also be easily forgotten because it's not as expressive. However, it is powerful all the same.

You asked me to choose a poem I identified with. After reading all the poems I could choose from, I felt that this one suited me best. No, I haven't grown up in poverty and I am privileged to have never experienced true adversity either. Still, I related to this poem because of the theme of quiet love. This is what I have with my father.  I have never hugged my father (once I gave him an awkward side hug before my 8th grade trip to D.C. but that doesn't count) and I have most definitely never told him that I love him. Not gonna lie, sometimes I cry about it and wish I could hold a conversation with him and fill him in on my trivial teenage shenanigans. However, even though we don't have my ideal relationship, I understand that we have established an understanding of each other over the years. He wakes me up every morning for school and before big events he tries his hardest to make a substantial breakfast for me. He'll quite literally wake up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday morning to drop me off at Speech and Debate tournaments, too. Sometimes I forget about these sacrifices my dad makes and how much he invests into my well-being and happiness. This is why I relate to the poem - because of my dad's un-showy love that frequently slips by me unless I remember to grasp it.