Ye Old Rows

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I was walking down a pathway,                                                                       
A path of blue-green mold                                                                           
When I stopped beside a gateway                                                                 
An eerie scene unfolds.                                                                                
As I walked on past that gateway,                                                               
I couldn't help but look around.                                                               
There was not a single soul around                                                                 
to make a single sound.                                                           
There was a neat row of old houses,                                                                
like a row of old horse stalls.                                                                          
With little space between them,                                                                      
they fought to take it all.                                                                                
It was too weird to comprehend,                                                                     
for who had built them all?                                                                             
This misplaced row of houses                                                                          
forgotten in the fog of fall.                                                                              
I climbed up the steps of the third house down                                                
and opened up the door.                                                                                
Surprised the door stayed on its hinges,                                                          
instead of falling on the floor.                                                                          
I looked about inside the house                                                                      
and found a sense of dread.                                                                           
It holds the thoughts of fears untold                                                               
and smells of many things dead.                                                                     
I ran out of that house so fast                                                                         
I sprawled out on the porch.                                                                           
It felt like so much time had passed,                                                               
but I could feel much worse.                                                                       
I stood straight up and turned around,                                                            
still not a single soul around.                                                                          
I ran down the stairs to the cold, hard ground.                                                 
I took a step, a leap, a bound.                                                                        
Frantically I looked about,                                                                              
looking for the pathway's start.                                                                       
I saw the gate, ran towards the path,                                                              
my cleated shoes tore it apart.                                                                        
I hopped on my bike and pedaled fast,                                                            
hoping not to see a "friend".                                                                           
When finally I cleared that place                                                                     
I stopped to contemplate a trend.                                                                   
There was no one there to make a sound                                                         
and it was just that I feared.                                                                          
I could not help but ask aloud,                                                                        
"What cast that shadow there?"                                                         --K.K.     

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