A purple flower is lying on the sidewalk.
How did it get there, I wonder?
Did a man pluck it from its earthy home, planning to hand it to his lover, but upon rejection cast it aside?
Or did a young child grab it to give it to her mother, only upon tripping and scraping her knee, the flower was forgotten as she was taken inside?
Or maybe its frail stem snapped, and the wind carried it from its field of residence to bask in the sun like a lizard on a rock?
Or maybe I'm thinking too hard about this.