we're young

on the cusp of adulthood

living

in the moment and for each other

our little farmhouse 

on  a bluff

above the river, soybeans

and horses

on either side, chickens

in the coop

goats, an occasional crop duster

under the power line

over the house

a cold and damp winter, perfect

for young love

reading middlemarch, home-making

rural isolation, the first of 

fifty such years

and here we are, the two of us wondering

what's next