Autumn Shadows
- William Estep
- June 22, 2025
Table of Contents
Every autumn the leaves turn.
I travel to the place of my fathers resting.
In an urban setting,
Colored in ranch style houses and drying laundry,
The two of us come together again.
I seldom say much. Not really a point.
During his life, we weren’t close,
Just never seemed right.
Not really what either of us wanted,
But we seldom said much.
In a kind of opening reverence,
I bow to a knee.
Without thought, I gently touch the stone.
The letters are harsh and cold.
Alone they hold no meaning, but the stone
Reminds me to grieve.
Turning I see row after row.
Stones, all of men and women I never knew.
Next to my father, the stone reads the same.
Dates and names from farther in my past.
A resting place of my mother, together.
Shadows; a silhouette of me, turning;
Reaching for the stone, the cold harsh letters
Have no meaning, my name,
The date is wrong, my hands slip
I can’t change the past,
Like shadows in autumn.
