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?

Robert Hayden, 1913-1980 – “Those Winter Sundays” from Collected Poems



Discover more from Tim Miller

Subscribe to get the latest posts to your email.

6 responses

  1. Dear Tim, I somehow can’t post my comments. Thank you for this poem. Only today a friend and I discussed  how we wished we had the wisdom we have today during our youth. My father worked hard at the sugar plantation and his enjoyment was a glass of Japanese wine. How I wished I had taken him to a bar and have him experience a bar where we could have both talked. But I didn’t do that. This must be part of the natural process of being young. Thank you.

    frances kakugawa http://www.francesk.org

    Liked by 2 people

  2. thanks Frances. this poem brings vivid memories of my own father as well. your comment should be posted! thank you for always stopping by

    Like

  3. Jennifer Mugrage Avatar

    I love this poem.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. thank you for stopping by to read it!

    Like

  5. I enjoy your poetry and will try to see how I can post my comments. 🙏

    Sent from my iPhone

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Frances, check it out now, you shd be able to reply directly under each poem. sorry about that!

    Like

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

#225 – The invention of the wheel, and the power of storytelling Human Voices Wake Us

An episode from 4/13/26: Tonight, I read about the invention of the wheel and what it meant for the earliest communities of Europe and the Eurasian steppes, from David Anthony’s The Horse, the Wheel, and Language.After this, a few passages from Norman Longmate’s How We Lived Then: A History of Everyday Life During the Second World War tells the story of gasoline rationing in England during the war, and the sometimes-comical lengths people went to hoard the fuel they could get a hold of.Finally, passages from S. Y. Agnon’s Days of Awe: A Treasury of Jewish Wisdom for Reflection, Repentance, and Renewal on the High Holy Days and Gershom Scholem’s Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism illustrate the power of language and storytelling in the Jewish tradition.The best way to support the podcast is by leaving a review on Apple or Spotify, sharing it with others, or sending me a note on what you think. You can also order any of my books: Time and the River: From Columbine to the Invention of Fire, Notes from the Grid, To the House of the Sun, The Lonely Young & the Lonely Old, and Bone Antler Stone. I've also edited a handful of books in the S4N Pocket Poems series. I also have a YouTube channel where I share poems and excerpts from these books, mostly as YouTube shorts.Email me at humanvoiceswakeus1@gmail.com.
  1. #225 – The invention of the wheel, and the power of storytelling
  2. #224: Let's talk about William Blake
  3. #223 – How to write two novels at the same time, with Charles Dickens
  4. #222: Seamus Heaney – 10 Essential Poems
  5. #221: Volcanoes, Plagues & the Childhood of a Kabbalist
  6. #220: The working poor and a so-so murder show
  7. #219: When a paragraph changes your life
  8. #218: Poetry to Live By
  9. #217: Voices from 1900-1914
  10. #216: Poets, Prophets, Seeresses & Goddesses from Time & the River

Discover more from Tim Miller

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading