"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."
In this poem, Robert Hayden indirectly characterizes the father by his work ethic. I noticed that the entire poem seemed to reminisce on the hard work of an unappreciated father. Hayden really stressed how the people around the father reacted, along with some of the work he does (like chopping wood to keep the home warm) to portray the father as a respected member of the father. The speaker in the story definitely seems regretful of not showing his/her father the love he/she the respect he deserved.
The overall mood of the poem is that of childhood regret. The main regret seems to come in the form of the speaker's regret in not telling his/her father how much he/she respected all of the hard work put in by the father. The title of the poem definitely expresses either a very negative or meaningful weekly tradition, but is clearly very memorable none-the-less. While the speaker seems to fondly remember the Sunday mornings, the speaker definitely has some unique feelings attached with the memories.
I really hope that this poem did not have a deeper meaning or highly metaphoric meaning, because I absolutely did not find one.
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