The Blue Orchid
Surely this is the way.
Yes, the road sloped steeply down, like this one.
These flat roofed buildings on either side look familiar.
We turn the corner and we should be there,
but what if it’s gone?
Hear what she said, the local woman:
“You mean the little hotel, the Blue Orchid?
It stood there. They knocked it down.
Said it was too old to repair,
that they’d build something else on the site,
but they never did.
Just a flat waste of broken stone now, as you can see,
shadowed from the sun,
silent, except when it rains,
and it runs down the grid.”
Well, that’s it. Sorry for leading you here.
The past kept what it hid.
It is just that I was young and I was happy there.
Never go back, they say.
Perhaps they are right.
Should’nt have come.
Left it as a memory.
But there’s more than pain in yesterday.