Winter can be very brutal at times.The cold harsh winds and freezing rain can put anyone in a bad mood.Sometimes, cold weather can cause us to be just as cold in personality as it is cold The poem’s words are what really make me “feel” this piece.The use of cacophony in the poem makes me feel like I am back at home with my own parents during the wintertime.When the speaker says, “blueblack cold,” and “cracked hands that ached…” I shiver just a little.Even when he goes on to say, “No one ever thanked him”, it takes me even further back to those days of being home with my father.I remember very well, waking up and waiting for the house to warm up.My father had usually gotten up at around 4:30 a.m., lit the heater and made his coffee while watching the morning news.It would be dreadfully cold in our rooms so we didn’t get out of bed until we could feel the heat coming slowly down the hallway like a ghost.We knew it was coming and could not wait until it got there.-angers” of the house that Hayden spoke about.Although we saw him everyday, we did not really talk to him much unless we wanted something.You kids can be, because if we wanted something he would give to us and we hardly ever said, “Thank You” and meant it.
The speaker seems to voice my thoughts exactly at the end, “What did I know, what did I know of love’s austere and lonely offices?”Back at home, we always thought that my dad just did those things for us so that he would get some recognition.Although recognition is nice, I realize now that he did all of those things for us a parent.She is the one that has to tiptoe around the house when she knows that after having a hard day, I don’t want to hear a sound.The tables have turned and now I am my parents went through with us.Mr. Hayden was right, who knows unless they go through themselves.


I'm Sandulf

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