Those Winter Sundays

Sundays too I got up early
to make things warmer than I found them.
The darkness discouraged
but I learned, well, I fought (it was, indeed, a struggle)
to overcome it.

Winter nights I came home, dirt under my fingernails,
my cheeks chapped from the cold winter wind,
beer on my breath, my soul fatigued.
I felt alone.
And worried…for we had not near enough money,
or food for the cold months to come.
Sorrow… was that what I felt?
Well, it grew to discouragement, which blossomed
into anger
and force. My son’s eyes widened
with fright.

Those winter mornings,
I did it for my son, my wife: the family.
Love, not greed or rage, became my motive,
It became the force that pulled me
out of bed and into the cold.
For what is life
but to try to give more than you take away?