For Jim Poem by Paul Francis

i read old writings
on a strangers bed
too afraid to take
a better man's chair

against my judgement
i pull on winston's
fearlful to inhale
and eyeball blue smoke

i am much like you
i hear gentle breath
and pattering steps
on linoleum

i see the bouquets
brown water and leaf
beneath resplendent
flower and fresh air

i drink the water
and prepare the leaves
i ignore the scent
and reap my reward

but little has come
from tired men in rooms
with more to offer
than stalemate or death