Night Garden

You know, some flowers

won’t dissolve in the darkness;

instead, they reflect

the surface of the moon,

slender, curved,

opening their pores, 

irises, and asphodels, 

bathed in lunar whiteness.

Just think, right now

there are whole gardens 

coming alive while we sleep.

When the wind blows one way,

a seed finds a place,

any place, accidentally.

This world is a mirror glass.

How is it we find images

of ourselves, in places

we can’t bear to see?

Judith Harris is the author of three books of poetry, The Bad Secret and Atonement (LSU), Night Garden (Tiger Bark), and Signifying Pain: Constructing and Healing the Self through Writing (SUNY Press). Read more.


“Night Garden” originally appeared in Boulevard Magazine and Night Garden.

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