I would like to wish all the fathers a Good and Happy Father’s Day!
Fathers: please allow me to dedicate to you “Those Winter Sundays” (1966), a poem by Robert Hayden (1913-1980).
Those Winter Sundays
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?
Fathers: Be the best dad, leader, and friend you can be!