on your back porch you do not see mountains or ocean waves the town of Falerna or the promenade to the sea; there's no distance or depth in this view. I watch you sitting - looking out at the garden you built on the land that's your own. Is it the sustenance, the stability you see? Is it the family the existence - life are you seeing your reflection? Answers were never in your words. I find them in that small space within the tomato stalks and sunflowers He looks out at the plot of land the one that offered the grandest of gifts. I don't tell him in words; that's not our shared language. he gave us life and in return i lived.