we live across the street
from a civil war era church and cemetery
the church was begun by a pastor who opposed slavery
and became a hiding place and stop
on the underground railroad
in fact
you can still see the hidden room
just as it looked 150 years ago
but yesterday
i was thinking more about the autumn colors
as i stepped outside my door
here are some glimpses
of an ancient tree
i love the crunch of leaves underfoot
and the dappled sunlight
filtered through golden leaves
crunch, crunch
the path that leads to home
i don't know why it is
that old graveyards cease to be places of sadness
and instead
take on an air of peace and charm
what does the view from your front porch look like right now?
