An orchid appeared

on my counter last week.

It’s stick-straight stems

point proudly skyward

upholding regal blooms

of white with

painted purple lips.

Waxy long leaves

splay around the base

as though palms upturned

in adoration.

Imagine my pleasure

upon discovering that

the beautiful blossoms

in question were left

for me by my daughter.

Symbolic of elegance

and fertility,

love and respect.

Printed directions

attached to a stick

explain care and feeding,

so my granddaughter

places three ice cubes

reverently just above the roots

and waits to see

what happens next.