I live among the oak, and pine.
The locust. The buckeye.
The sugar and silver maples.
Home is dappled sunlight.
In nearby fields, green corn and soy,
orange pumpkins, or golden wheat
contrast against intense-blue sky.
No wonder why the man I love
longs to return to farming the land,
missing the “big toys” he used to enjoy.
The open fields that call his name,
and leave space for breath and prayer.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018