Fifteen black orchids envelop and embrace the dying host.
Still anchored, one spreads its wings to the edges of the mountains
Gathering the warm leftovers of the morning sun
While two shepherd dogs below bellow their alarm.
Rejected by despoilers of fragrant forests,
Encouraging purification of despised putrefactions,
Quietly ignore their reputation,
Oblige their inheritance.
In solitary solitude, I play two black aces and then another two.
A deck without is not
Mesmerized we watched
Red-headed orchids each lift silently
Leaving to join the vortex of a multitude of quiet birdwings.
"Come back tonight," we whisper. And we begin a new day,
Decidedly altered by the apparition of the black orchids.