It was just a simple house
On Johnson Street 
Up from the rail road tracks.
Just me and my spouse now.

I guess it was the outskirts.
We both worked hard and
Sat on the porch every evening.

Taking stock of the day.
The two chairs near the door
For the youngsters now gone.

Our chairs near the steps.
At least we could ask 
Why and where when they left.

We left one chair open
For neighbors stopping by
To share a beer or glass of Jack when we had it.

We could hear the trains going by.
The creaking of the rails from the weight
Of freight for the city.

We knew about that weight.
We carried it on our backs
And sweated each pound earned.

The young ones now gone.
Off to school and their own lives.
The long hours of work still here with us.

Some would say we never really won.
We owned the house though and
Sat on the porch and thought well done.

young ‘19