Walking through the leaves
the smell of crisp fall air as they break beneath my feet
the cool breeze not too cold
stirring up the memories of long ago

My hands trace the mossy names of long ago
covered from years of neglect
i find a stick to clean it off
to read the dates of birth and death.

as my red hands brush off the thick patches
my eyes read the dates with innocent curiosity
the birth in 1799
and as my eyes read no date of death
the shivers went up my spine.

I step backwards
falling into a two foot pit
covered thick by grass and weeds
my heart races from the thriller I just felt
thinking the ghost was out to get me.

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