At home in rural Kansas
A hot Sunday in mid-July
Mother and Father, back from church
Relaxing in their rockers
Buddy, their dog, watches alertly over the yard
Shortly Mother will cook Swedish pancakes
with lingonberries for lunch
But first some quiet time
Despite her blurry eyes
Mother is nearly done knitting her scarf
Father just finished with the Sunday Gazette
He wonders why he bothers
The world, so torn with chaos
Ugly politics, violence at home and abroad
Each year they appreciate their farm more
Their own private sanctuary
A place of abundance and serenity
The children, of course, are grown adults
Off in the big city, far from the farm
Still friendly, but with lives and families of their own
The couple rarely talk with one another
Everything’s been said so many times
Yet they enjoy a special closeness
A product of their fifty-two years
Life is good, not perfect
She takes medicine for her heart
His back pains keep him awake at night
But they are always there for one another
Night and day
And will be until the very end 
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