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Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Poetry Party Wednesday

How many of us truly appreciate our parents while we have them?  I did, and yet only to the extent a young girl is capable, and only to the view I could see with my eyes.  Who knows what their eyes had seen?

Those Winter Sundays

Sundays, too, my father got up early 

And put his clothes on in the blueback 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, 

he 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

8 comments:

jaeartworks said...

Beautiful!

Lisa said...

It really is the little things that I appreciate more and more the older I get. It's only from experience that you realize how much work each of those little things takes.

Jeanne @ Collage of Life said...

A time remembered...I really enjoyed this Teri, thank you! I have to say one more time, how much I enjoyed meeting you today. I am so happy we picked the same poem all those years ago...it truly was inevitable that we should meet. :) Hope to see you in London one day in the near future!! :)xx

Jeanne @ Collage of Life said...

A time remembered...I really enjoyed this Teri, thank you! I have to say one more time, how much I enjoyed meeting you today. I am so happy we picked the same poem all those years ago...it truly was inevitable that we should meet. :) Hope to see you in London one day in the near future!! :)xx

Cynthia said...

This poem made me cry, heartfelt tears of remembering my father rising early before work to put coal in the furnace to get the house warm. He never complained. I think he enjoyed it as it gave purpose to his day. Later we would be complaining as it would be too hot and we'd be waring shorts. Missing him.....

Aimeslee said...

well, yeah, particularly if you never really speak emotions to each other. a very eloquent and touching poem that to me poignantly describes the lost opportunities quite well. xoxo

p.s - I *get* this one, winkwink.

Holli said...

This is such a great poem. It reminds me of my grandpa. Good choice Teri!

thepinkrachael said...

Really enjoyed this one...keep trying to leave a comment abuot it, but it's in my head and won't come out, perhaps that's the best way to feel after reading?