I came back to the scent
of the red rose

in the back alley near the corner
just before sunset

and stood there inspecting its
delicacy

bending into it
inhaling the giving of its blood

dripping with a tap on my shoe
somehow explaining itself

like a lover eternal.

I was tempted
to snap it from its slender body

but I just couldn’t bear the sound
it might scream as a car drove by

I being known to cause riots
in the past

with just words.

I drifted back to my motel room
in El Paso believing I felt the pain

of the homeless gathering
and wondering where

the end would come.

I’m too old now
to count my change

after buying dinner
in a fast-food bubble

thinking the world is not
a dump

growing trash on trash
a red rose on top

a flag of accomplishment?