I do my finest listening in the dark.
My best friend has always been ink
and she lets me talk so much at night.
One of the marvels of my life—
an alphabet. A whole green and mossy
world can be made and remade
from just twenty-six dark curlicues.
Here’s more dark: sometimes birds sleep
tucked under a giraffe’s dusky armpit
and sometimes fungi fatten only at night.
When I was a kid, I used to worry over
so many bugs and moths slamming
into our windshield. My sons have never
known that concern, which is another kind
of worry. But dark marvels still bloom
and snick the soil, swim the oceans and air—
and even on the moon: wide, flat plains
called seas, lakes, marshes, and bays
named Joy, named Sorrow, named Hope,
named Nectar, named Softness, named Serpent,
named Stickiness, named Tranquility, named
Clouds, named Sleep, and my favorite—named Love.
Aimee Nezhukumatathil is the New York Times bestselling author of two essay collections: Bite by Bite and World of Wonders. She serves as a firefly guide for Mississippi State Parks, and her forthcoming book of poems is Night Owl.
