Those Winter Sundays

Even though this poem was short and straight forward, I really enjoyed "Those Winter Sundays." Some lines were especially powerful to me, and I felt the subtle emotion in the words. The imagery was painful in places, like the "blueblack cold" and "with cracked hands that ached from labor." Paired with lines like "No one ever thanked him" makes me think that the speaker is not only expressing gratitude but also shares his regret. Now the speaker realizes the sacrifices and labor the father endured for his son, and he did not properly express the appropriate gratitude. I sympathized the most with the father, going out on Sundays in the freezing cold so his son would be warm when he got up. The author's imagery when describing the cold made me understand the magnitude of the father's actions, warming a house of people that never expressed thanks. For most of the poem, the speaker details the events of those Sunday mornings, but at the end he says "What did I know, what did I know of love's austere and lonely offices?" I think that something may have happened to the father that makes the son reflect back on his indifference those Sunday mornings. The speaker's emotions peak at those very last lines, strengthening this sense of regret and reflection.