DEP POETRY
Autumn’s Bittersweet Embrace
Love, Loss, and Second Chances
Autumn in a sleepy, small
farming town hid Logan’s
’23 summer blessing
underneath a blanket
of gold and red
leaves that camouflaged
the evenly cut front lawn.
Logan stood on the weathered
wooden porch of his modest
beige home with a slender cigarette
smoldered between his mocha fingers.
Wisps of smoke curled and danced
in the gentle evening breeze.
He inhaled the hope he had in trust.
And he exhaled the romance
baked into Zoe’s calm eyes
the day she said goodbye.
Logan stepped back inside the house.
The gravity of rejection weighed
heavy on his shoulders.
He asked God to brainwash
Zoe and return her from back East.
Her wealthy father was a doctor,
and he looked down on Logan
and everything he had to give Zoe.
After two years, hope’s sugar high
wore off its meaning.
Of Logan’s mistakes
none come to a second
close in his heart
than losing Zoe,
not to another man,
but a lousy father.
Logan told her father
to bathe in his cash
if he loved it so much.
He put out the first
of countless cigarettes
and headed to bed
as the world turned.
The first snowfall arrived
in early November.
Lacy flakes danced to earth.
White frosted tips of evergreen
trees and roofs had sheets of snow,
creating a picturesque scene
of the Pacific Northwest
as they settled upon the earth.
Cars pumped their brakes
down the road on sheets
of powdered snow.
Neighbors clanked their shovels
over sidewalks and driveways
to avoid lawsuits, not to be nice.
The holidays surrendered
for the year.
Logan couldn’t visit his mother,
not without getting an earful
of him single this and settling down that.
He’d rather eat his organs than
to hear his father talk about grandchildren
and how he wished he had some.
Logan would rather risk missing
his sister’s famous sugar cookies
than for her to set him up on a blind date.
Seasons rolled by with the heartache
that Logan wore on his sleeve,
but his thoughts dragged on well before
she strung him along.
Logan watched Thanksgiving pass
without a call from Zoe.
And his stubbornness pulled
his fingers from pressing call.
He sat in sessions with a therapist.
Logan took her words to heart,
and tinkered around the edges
of his heart.
It was days before Christmas.
Logan sat on the maroon leather recliner,
sipped coffee, and ate pound cake.
He hung silver and gold bells through the living room,
fixed stockings above the fireplace mantle,
and candy cane candles that burned the day.
He followed a TikTok recipe for coffee cake.
Logan set a nativity scene by the small tree
he looped lights around.
The coffeemaker filled the living room
with fresh Snickers brew.
A football game played on the TV,
but he pointed a remote,
pressed a button, and silenced the volume.
Logan’s phone buzzed.
He gripped the phone and unlocked it.
“Hello?” Logan yawned.
“It’s Dad.”
“Are you okay, Dad?” Logan leaned forward,
awakened from shock. “You don’t sound so great.”
“Well, hello to you too,” he said. “It’s close to the end for me, Logan.”
“What are you talking about, Dad?”
“Your mother wanted me to, but I told her I’d steer clear of telling you about the cancer,” he said, voice cracking. “You have more faith in God than anyone I know. I felt if anyone could pray this away, it’d be you.”
“I’m sorry I let you down, Dad.”
“Are you kidding, kid?” Dad said. “Leah kept me going.”
“Who’s Leah?” Logan said.
“Just don’t be too hard on Zoe, son,” Dad said.
“Who is Leah?” Logan said.
“Zoe.” Dad coughed hard. “Zoe moved to her family because her mother was in the hospital — in a bad way.”
“She didn’t want me to know, did she?”
“Zoe’s mother lived long enough to meet Leah.”
“Who is Leah?” Logan said, angrier than he’d wanted to.
“Leah is your daughter,” Dad said.
“This isn’t funny, Dad.”
“She texted Mom,” Dad said. “She’s at your door.”
“I’m headed to the hospital.
“If I’m gone before you arrive, I’ll save you a seat upstairs.”
“I love you, Dad.”
“If you love me, forgive Zoe.”
“I’ll be there.” Logan ended the call, grabbed his coat, and moved to the door.
And there she was, Zoe stood, cradling Leah.
“It’s been over two years,” Logan said.
“It was the first day of autumn in ’23 beneath the maple tree,” Zoe said. “That’s when it happened.”
Zoe nodded. “I didn’t want to bother you with my sick mother’s issues, and I didn’t know whether you’d forgive me for my dad’s hatred.”
“There’s nothing to forgive.” Logan wrapped his arm around Zoe and stretched his arm to offer Leah his hand. She tightened her fingers around his comfort.
Leah’s phone buzzed. She looked at the screen. Tears welled in her eyes as she read a message.
“He passed, didn’t he?”
Zoe blinked, and damp streams spread across her cheeks. “Yes,” she said.
“He wanted the day for us to reunite as his day to depart. And the freeway is closed for the evening.”
Logan stepped back, and Zoe and Leah entered the cozy home.
Logan shut the door on the past.
(© 2024 AC)
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✍ — Published by B.R. Shenoy at Dancing Elephants Press. Click here for submission guidelines.
