flora nocturne



of contemplation’s plume

I am the nocturnal bloom

unfurling in the zenith

of another zero hour

I am the angel’s trumpet

beset with lunar dew

an aperture imbibing

of the moon’s beatitude

I am Endymion’s yawn

drawn in the drowsy impasse

of Selene’s everlasting fervency

I am the budding lips

of the ominous jimson

the innate intoxicant

in blissful prefix

of the dawn

I am the motherless fawn

fragile and wandering

the narcoleptic gardens

of midnight oblivion

I am the dark galaxy

harboring an emerald star

exhausting it’s nocturne burn

somewhere far, far away

a. duncan, 2020




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Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus || Love is rich with both honey and venom

21 thoughts on “flora nocturne

  1. Let me wander into this night garden, immerse and intoxicate myself in its dark lushness in the shadows. I love the imagery and the words, Endymion’s yawn…. I feel like I can feel the cool air on my face and the eeriness of the moonlight. The touch of the dew. And this nocturnal bloom, potentially deadly, yet so breathtakingly beautiful.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. You would be a beautiful addition to my night garden, Rachel. Your words are equally lush. They dance like moonlight across the corpse flowers. What did I ever do before I discovered you…. surely my midnight soirées weren’t nearly as resplendent. Say you’ll stay and I will pluck you gently now and again 😉 🥀🌜

      Liked by 3 people

  2. Another beautifully written poem. Selene has been and will be my muse as long as she drives her chariot across the sky. Let Endymion sleep the ages away and live only in his dreams. I’ll burn my life out in wakefulness so that I may gaze upon her bright face.

    Liked by 2 people

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