The familiar homeward track
wound its way up the hill.
I stumbled along it,
trying to avoid
the shale
that nipped,
the heat
that gripped.
The sun overhead
burnt my bare skin.
The scrubby wattles scratched my arms
(deliberately,
it seemed to me) .
The native grasses
sang thinly
in dusty clumps.
Then -
a Cootamundra blocked my way.
and I saw them.
An army of orchids
of such fragile beauty,
they took my breath away.
Nodding green-hoods.
Spielberg aliens
en masse,
with ridiculous oversized heads
bowing
obsequiously
in pale translucent green.
I went down on my knees -
and without thought,
my adolescent angst
had melted into air
into thin air.
Alison Cassidy
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/nodding-greenhoods/
