Unmown Graveyard

A fence surrounds the tiny graveyard that is the only remnant of my neighborhood’s rural past. I've often wondered how the residents of the closest houses feel about having graves in what is essentially their front yard. Seventeen souls rest in this space although many of the headstones are gone. On this particular day, it was in such a need of mowing that the shortest stones were submerged in the grass. The light was so beautiful, I doubt that the resting souls cared. It probably looked more like the farmland they knew long ago.