Nocturne for Dark Things

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.

 

[Purchase Issue 31 here.]

 

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.

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

Nocturne for Dark Things

Related Posts

July 2026 Poetry Feature

AMIYA MORETTA
Magnolia tree in the window, hammock, / a loop in hours, a cradle of light we swing inside, / naming what we’re afraid of. / In this version, he is from halfway around the world. / Some net caught the curve of us in the dark, / gathered what it could, his hand, my pulse.

An Exercise in Loneliness

AIDAN CAHILL
It would seem the Earth is always in flux, whether it be the monthly succumbings of the cabbage white butterflies or the water with its winter sleep, yet for the longest time I had challenged this. In the wake of blurring seasons and rotations of the sun, I had come back here, ages 15, 16, 17, now 19, always to the same place