I was an orchid planted in desert and on the art of leaving I was no expert. My roots were on fire and my leaves were scalded, my stems thinned and my petals moulded. Desperate for water from an earth bone dry, it’s a miracle that I even survived.
It should have been easy to move away from chemical farmers dousing poisoned spray. Yet I believed that I could help them see the orchid they too were supposed to be. Only all were blind to logic and reason and encouraging compassion was treated as treason. I was powerfully, inextricably and painfully attached to the very poison from which I was hatched.
About the Creator
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By S. A. Crawfordabout 23 hours ago in Fiction
Comments (7)
You are probably familiar with Elizabeth Bishop's poem "One Art", right? Well, in a way, your piece reminds me of it. Nothing to do with the orchid. Just the tone and overall message. Really enjoyed reading your piece!
This was so poignant and I love the analogy you used here. It made me so emotional. Very well done!
Layered in meaning! Nice work. 👏☺️
Omg! I was drawn in by the title alone – i love how visual it is – and i loved this ✨ Painful but maybe freeing to realize, u never belonged in the desert to begin with 🌸
Beautiful writing
Great metaphor, vividly written.
Wow, this is intense! Great work!