I thought smelled the scent of cheese
but then again, it could have been urine.
I turned and stared down onto a rock.
a grey, squared, flat rock.
there was a flower, albeit withered, on it.
a puff of white, yellow, and light purple
here and there carefully strewn about
and you think for a bit
who would have placed it there so carefully
as the dawn gets broken by the rising sun
and the cool azure hue dissipates
could it have been his last prayer
could it have been his last offering
could it have been his last hope?
one man’s fight,
one man’s statement,
and one man’s journey.
9.6.2022
Ralph with Coffee 