Because I Lay On My Back as Boy

WATCHING

by Richard Hoffman

Because I lay on my back as a boy in the grass of the small yard
behind our house watching clouds move and become faces, mostly,

I was able to sit for a long time holding my dying mother's hand as
her sleeping face changed like a field in the sun under moving clouds,

and to hold my newborn grandson now and watch his features changing
moment to moment, propelled by some inner wind I suppose must be like dreaming,

and because this watching is above, after, and before words, I am
unable to describe what I believe I understand and how it comforts
and sustains me.

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