César Vélez ONE LAST TIME From where the sun now stands, I will fight no more forever. —Chief Joseph grandfather used to cut wild flowers under the aguacate trees on early evenings. he would take them to a grave as he walked on a dirt path with red soil the same that now stains my nails. but grandfather was not a great man. he was no handsome grayhaired old dad. grandfather had dark hair and a wrinkled face that spread to the eyes. grandfather never told wise stories that have survived. he would come back in late tired almost dead too many nights after he picked wild flowers for a tomb.