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Under the wrought iron arch and gateway
crawling with both wild and deep red creepers
complimented by evergreens.
The fall colors are splendid.

Most of the flowers are giving way 
to the chill, and the swans are graceful and content
with the breeding season now over

Walking slowly along the narrow drive,
spots of color scatter around the green grass.
What beautiful yards,
each house made of stone,
granite - marble - sandstone.
The foundation of the earth

Dark stone black, pink, white, gray, burnt umber, rose
beautiful houses inviting you closer,
please see my name.
I was here many years ago.
Cholera came to me and took my spirit away.
But I was pretty and young and full of joy.
For a little while.

Old stones to the early 1800's.
Stones with angels guarding a lamb
baby tears fall, in time giving the stone soft edges.

One from yesterday.

Come see me in my house. Mausoleum strong and tall. 
Handsome and successful.
Each as individual in death as their homes and places were in life. 

Over here, I fought for my country. Me and all my buddies here, 
laid out under each of these many white crosses.

Hello, don’t forget my free spirit ... riding high over the houses
touring where ever the wind wishes.
Swirling fine invisible ashes through the trees
sparkling in the late closing sun.

A town’s history. Natural, tragic, sickness, murder ... all here 
The history wraps around the casual visitor.
Keening out not to be forgotten.
Calling, we were important pioneers. 

The end of day sun setting on their windows
Aglow with the spirit of yesteryear.

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