A Family's Grave

It's autumn in the country
and the leaves are changing from green
to yellow and orange and brown.
They fall dead off trees
and cripple after days.

Under bridges,
creeks run thin and cold.

Wild horses saunter next to
fields of corn--dry, brown
emptied husks.
These fields of empty husks
sway in the breeze,

and across an old red home,
with tiny paper ghosts
nailed to it's columns,
a small grave lot lies
telling the season's story.