After the flowers fell, I tossed them aside, into the compost.
At the cabin I let them linger.
A new bloom appeared a year or two later.
Orchids became my event flower. I bought one for the centerpiece.
Took it home afterwards to take in the light.
The collection has grown, forcing me to let go.
Can I save them forever?
Can I save anything really or anyone?
It’s that saving that’s got me going.
I must shift.
I must understand that while everyone is an orchid, they don’t necessarily bloom in my garden.
That can’t be true. I must reassess.
There must be away. I’m standing back now, to witness, to see if I can understand, oh yes, to stand under. That is not so easy.
Yet I promise.
"I hear you," I say.
And then like the orchid I wait.