The Lady Slipper

The pungent odor of moist peat;
It stuck to my boots like an ointment,
A thick black unguent of swamp.
I stepped around algae-covered pools
Of brackish, stagnant water.
Moss mottled the misshapen trunks
Of hunchbacked tamarack that wept
Aggrieved tears of needles
When I'd bump up against them.
Dismal scenery casting a depressing
Pall upon a landscape so saturated
That it quivered as I set foot upon it.

Through a bog of brittle reeds
I caught a sudden glimpse of color.
A bird?  Instantly curious, moving
Carefully so as not to scare it,
I moved closer to the feathered life.
No bird.  It was a Moccasin Flower;
This solitary pink orchid dangled
Wet with the weight of morning dew.
Fragile as a spiderweb,
Its delicate petals glistened as sunlight
Caressed them with a loving reverence.
Something beautiful, this "Lady Slipper,"
Transformed the swamp to a place
Of wonder simply by its presence there.

Loveliness encountered unexpectedly
Lingers longest in one's mind.
I think of gorgeous faces glimpsed just once
That I've pressed in the tome of my memory;
The woman who was seated nex to me
During a Peter, Paul and Mary concert,
A check-out girl at Goldfine's Grocery,
The blonde in a car stopped at a red light,
Or a captivating smile passed on the street.
Elusive as wild orchids, these Cinderellas
Have left no footwear behind for this prince
To retrieve to gallantly return to them;
Just visions of loveliness that remain
As vivid, fresh and indelible in my mind
As my only encounter with the "Lady Slipper."