The sun was halfway down...

The sun was halfway down 

the evening after Grandma's graveside service. 

Grandpa passed away the year before.

And I remembered afternoons spent fixing fence, 

walking home for supper slowly because Grandpa was old 

and so that we could talk about the blackbirds or the cows.

I walked past windows inside which they used to sit, 

reading or watching news. 

I leaned against the pasture gate. 

A half-grown mule deer looked up 

from what was left of one remaining Ranger Alfalfa plant. 

The grayness smelled like fall.