Robert Hayden probably knew a thing or two about cold winter mornings, having grown up in Detroit in the early part of last century. He published his first poetry book at 27 and later went on to become the first African-American appointed as Poet Laureate of the United States. You can read the full text of the poem here. Photograph (of Aristide Maillol’s statue Mountain), lettering, and composition by me. Have a good week!
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Beautiful, beautiful, and sad poem. Thanks for sharing.
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It is my pleasure! I am glad you enjoyed it. This poem has so much powerful imagery packed into such economical verse!
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Thank you for the reblog!
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“No one ever thanked him”…that’s the line that always gets me. And the image of “blueblack cold”. Not sure how I know this poem, but I do…wonderful interpretation. (K)
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Thank you, Kerfe! I love that description too – “blueblack cold” – I think I could do a whole piece revolving around that image.
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Yes you could…so evocative.
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This poem is absolutely wrenching. And your art fits it. thank you.
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Thank you, Claudia! It is – it really captures that realization of how oblivious we were when we were kids – when everything revolved around us and we didn’t see what adult life and sacrifice was all about!
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Yes, that is what I thought. And also for me how shocked I was when I became a parent and realized it was now my turn to be this person myself for another person’s obliviousness…
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I’ve loved this poem for years, since a professor presented it to a literature class I was in. I found myself defending my assertion that the entire poem is really contained in the first two words. I think I did all right. 🙂
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It’s an intriguing proposition – “Sundays too” is laden with the implications of work and monotony and duty. That every word can contain layers of meaning is the sign of a great poem (and poet!). I agree that Mr. Hayden sets up the theme perfectly from those first two words. Thank you for the comment!
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Thank you for sharing Hayden’s poem, very touching.
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