Those winter Sundays

Those winter Sundays by Robert Hayden



Sundays too my father got up early
and put is 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 coal 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?



So I didn't really get the poem because of the last two lines but after the discussion on it in class I totally understood. After you said that it reminded you of your grandpa or grandma ( can't remember) I immediately thought of my grandma.

Not to long ago my mom and I were talking about my grandma and how everytime our family got together she would say something about my mom or I. I told my mom about how I don't have a good relationship with her mom. Then my mom told me that even though my grandma might not show that she loves me that she would be the first one to help me if needed it. She said that she would find a way to help me. So after my mom and I's talk I realized that I was nieve when it came to my grandmother. And I think that is what the last two lines are saying;
"What did I know, what did I know
Of love's austere and onely offices?"
I was just too nieve to understand that people show love in different ways.