A single orchid – its safety-pin detached – lay in tears on the town registry steps, those cold, stone steps steeped in artificial light, an orchid and its fresh, bewildered tears. I had never seen a flower’s tears, and saw no guests, their hurried steps had passed the orchid and the orchid’s tears, two polished opals on the littered steps. (Reference: Vladimir Tretchikoff's "Lost Orchid")