For her Grandparents.

The pink and white lady’s slipper grows slowly,
taking up to 16 years to produce their first flowers.
The plants live for up to 50 years and grow four feet tall

 
from his steady hands.  Anne can still smell
his rich Minnesota breath as the warm August
sun extends an arm around her shoulder. 
They emerge from the sanctuary, down the path
to sow their seeds until they reach the lake.
She finds a pink and white blossom and in
it, the life that will soon be theirs.  Though the
pink has faded and bled through the white, she
for a moment can see the radiance this dancing
flower once held.  If Paradise can be extracted
and implanted in this soggy bog, then only years
can be added to the life of this bloom.  But from
this moment they can only guess and trust
they will reach the lake, and that the
pink and white radiance will last.

 
Open fens, bogs and swamps…that’s all
that will remain one day.  It is inevitable that
the radiance will fade, leaving the muddy
substance that held these tall royal buds.
Her hope rests in her seeds sown on the path,
inviting memory to extend past the thick marsh
and heavy mist that threatens to cloud the blooms
in the moonlight. As they reach the bottomless
mountain lake, he walks out first, telling their story
as his skin cools on the icy water.  She finds
a lone path to an old swamp, looks back
and promises to join him.  She strolls down
and stands in a swarm of their pink and white
creations.  He waits there on the lake, miles above
what matters, immortalized, waiting for that
one last kiss.