It troubles me to view
in the gutter a sole shoe,
the last surviving remnant
of a motor car accident.
The poem title is a play on the double meaning of the American word for Autumn, because it is Autumn now.
The poem was inspired by Wendyhome blog searchers’ interest in footwear, the single shoe I recently saw in the verge and the many single shoes I’ve seen litter the roadside verges and gutters over the years.
How did they get there? What happened to the other shoe, to the owner? Is there a Wendy mother that looks after the lost shoes (rather than lost boys)? The word ‘sole’ is deliberately used to reference it’s phonological equivalent ‘soul’, as if these shoes refer to the souls of their owners.
When I see these lost shoe’s my tearducts start insisting on hyperactivity. Not knowing how they got there, or what has happened to thier original owner causes sadness. Lost souls leads to sadness…..