I chose to write about “Those Winter Sundays” by Robert Hayden. This poem was a touching memory as the speaker looked back on how he never thanked his father for all he did on those chilly Sunday mornings.
In lines one through five the speaker talks about how the father would always get up in the early morning, in the “blueblack cold”, and get a fire started to warm the house after working hard that previous week. This shows that the father worked hard to make sure that the son had a warm, comfortable life. The speaker then says how no one ever thanked his father for all he did. The speaker seems to have some sort of remorse or regret that he never thanked his father.
In lines six and seven the