Those Winter Sundays

BY  RO BE RT HAY DE N
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, “Those Winter Sundays” from Collected Poems of Robert Hayden, edited by Frederick
Glaysher. Copyright ©1966 by Robert Hayden.
Source: Collected Poems of Robert Hayden (Liveright Publishing Corporation, 1985)
Those Winter Sundays
Robert Hayden
‘Those Winter Sundays’ by Robert Hayden is a three-stanza work where the sections vary in
length, though the theme remains from start to finish.

Robert Hayden was an American poet born in 1913 in Detroit.

He was the first African American to be appointed as a Consultant in Poetry to the Library of
Congress.
‘Those Winter Sundays’ by Robert Hayden is a three-stanza work where the sections vary in
length, though the theme remains from start to finish. The poem is a narrative of a time when
the speaker’s father would care for his family in ways that went unappreciated, even though the
speaker gives indications that the work done by his father was something worth appreciation. In
fact, the speaker notes that he benefited from that work, but with no gratification shown toward his
father. This concept is prevalent in lines of ‘Those Winter Sundays’, and eventually, it becomes
clear that the un-thankful child has become an adult who criticizes his youthful lack of gratitude,
though he links the fault with his early inability to understand his father’s struggles. In the end, it
seems, the relationship faltered because of the division created by misunderstanding, and no
inclination is given that it was ever repaired. The end result is a poem that is encumbered with
guilt. The full poem can be read here.

Those Winter Sundays Analysis

First Stanza
Sundays too my father got up early
(…)
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.
Diving directly into a general recollection from his youth, the narrator begins the account of how
hard the father worked to tend to his responsibilities, and there is plenty of evidence within the
stanza to showcase the level of sacrifice and effort this work ethic required. In the first two lines,
the reader can note one clue regarding the father’s ongoing work schedule since the speaker
doesn’t just say “Sundays” were a day of work, but “Sundays too.” What that detail denotes is that
the father has worked throughout the week, something that is such a given that the “weekday”
workload does not need to be elaborately addressed.
On those “Sundays,” the work began “early” for this father, and he hardly started his efforts in
pleasant circumstances. Instead, he had to commence his daily labors in “cold” and with lingering
effects from prior workloads, like “cracked hands that ached.” It is worth noting as well that the
only task that is specifically labeled in this first stanza is that he started the “fires ablaze,” which
showcases care being extended toward his family that he himself did not experience. Remember,
after all, that he “put his clothes on in the blueback cold.”
The first stanza of ‘Those Winter Sundays’  ends with the declaration, though, that “No one ever
thanked him.” This statement begins an impassioned case against the child who would let such
actions go without a word of gratitude, given how much the father worked to ensure the child’s
comfort and well-being.
 
Second Stanza
I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
(…)
fearing the chronic angers of that house,
Once more, the reader is introduced to evidence that the father’s work ethic was great since the
speaker is stating that he was not awake when the father started working. Rather, he would “wake
and hear the cold splintering, breaking.” By the time he was awoken by the “call” his father would
send him, “the rooms were warm” already, which again shows a level of care from the father. He
didn’t just start the fire to cater to his child, but he also didn’t “wake” his child from sleep until the
room had lost its chill.
The child, it seemed, felt no rush to join his father in the daily chores since “slowly [he] would
rise and dress,” so again the reader is met with indications that the father went out of his way to
make the existence of his child better than his own. However, in the final line of this stanza, a
confusing prospect is brought into the discussion in that, while the child seemingly had every
reason to appreciate the father, he held some sort of fear in his living situation—he “fear[ed] the
chronic angers of that house.”
There are a number of possible explanations, one being that the “house” itself was falling apart,
and the adult who was once the child in this situation reminisce on these issues by labeling them
“chronic angers.” If such is the case, the notion that the child was afraid of what the father dealt
with creates another reason why the father was worthy of gratitude. As the child worried over the
disrepair of the house, the father continued his duties in spite of the problems.
It is also possible, though, that these “chronic angers” are referenced as an indication of tension
shared between the father and child. Already, the concept that the child neglected to show
gratitude has been established, so the father knowing of this disregard and being hurt or resentful
over it is conceivable.
A worse prospect is that the child could have neglected to thank the father out of resentment for
some kind emotional neglect or physical abuse that the father inflicted on him, which would alter
the theme of this poem. If that were the case, the child would have had reason to withhold his
gratitude because of the poor treatment at the hands of his father, issues that ran much deeper than
whether or not a fire was going in the mornings. With little else being said on the matter, the
reader must wait until the final stanza to arrive at an informed decision on the matter.
Whatever the “angers,” were, their “chronic” nature makes it clear that they were ongoing.
 
Third Stanza
Speaking indifferently to him,
(…)
of love’s austere and lonely offices?
In this stanza of ‘Those Winter Sundays’, it seems, the idea that the father is abusive loses a
portion of possibility as the speaker admits that his father had been there for him against the
“cold” and through preparing his “good shoes,” and because the speaker in his older years
describes his father’s feelings for him as “love.” He pairs that idea with “austere,” indicating a
strict environment, and that detail could grant the missing information from the second stanza. The
reason for the tension, “the chronic angers,” could be that the father was strict (not abusive) in his
parenting in a way that a child would resent.
This idea is further cemented since the speaker does not seem to hold the same tension toward his
father that he had in his youth—such as how he “[spoke] indifferently to” his father. Instead, the
speaker seems to have applied years of wisdom and growth to the situation to conclude that as a
child, he simply had not understood: “What did I know, what did I know/ of love’s austere and
lonely offices.”
If this logic is applied to the entire poem, readers can infer that the speaker now sympathizes with
his father since he can now understand why his father was stern and how “lonely” his parenthood
had to be given the tension between them—particularly since no other characters are referenced as
having been a part of their household. What used to be frustration toward the father seems to have
turned into frustration with himself because his father was never granted the gratitude he’d rightly
earned.
Overall, the reader can leave this poem feeling the regret of youth wasted and a relationship that
was never healed, and that grief could be what Hayden intended as the lingering detail of the
work. Time and misunderstanding separated the father and child, regardless of the “love” present,
and that separation was never overcome.
 
About Robert Hayden
Robert Hayden was a 20th-century poet whose works are renowned not only for their literary
capacity, but also from a social perspective. One of the most significant honors of Hayden’s career
as a writer was to be the first African American Consultant of Poetry for the United States
Congress, and many of his works were constructed with his interest in history in mind—
particularly African American history.