Aimee Nezhukumatathil

Aimee Nezhukumatathil is an Ole Miss professor and a New York Times bestselling poet. Her latest book is titled “Night Owl.”

Interviewed by Eugene Stockstill

Q: Talk a little bit about your new book, “Night Owl,” and about how much of your work is inspired by nighttime.

A: These poems are all centered around the nighttime. During the day, everything asks to be fixed quickly, answered quickly, and when I became a mom … it pretty much doubled. But at night the demands fade, and I can hear things I miss when the sun is up — my own breath, birdsong when they are migrating, memories and possibilities for writing. As a poetic framework, night gives me a way to move through emotional registers that might feel too bold or bright in full daylight. Grief, wonder, longing, tenderness, worry, yearning — they all glow differently in the dark.

Q: Your poetry focuses on the wonders of the natural world. Why is this such an important concept?

A: Attention to the outdoors is one of the deepest forms of care. To truly notice without turning away is an act of tenderness. Poetry teaches us how to look closely at what hurts and what still shimmers. When we feel helpless, a poem doesn’t fix the world, but it reminds us we are not alone in our fear or confusion. It creates meaning from chaos. Rachel Carson says, “The more we learn about the inhabitants of the planet, the less appetite we have for

destruction.”

Q: What advice would you give to someone about being more present to the wonders that are all around us?

A: Just notice something small and stay with it and see where that leads you. The tilt of a leaf. The sound your house makes at night. The way a certain word tastes in your mouth. Poetry begins there. And read widely, not just poetry that sounds like what you think poetry should sound like. Read poets who surprise you. Read outside your comfort zone. Let your ear be trained by many different kinds of music. Give yourself permission to write small. A stanza. A single image. A few lines scribbled before bed. You don’t have to begin with a grand statement. Trust smallness. Also, boredom is useful. Put your phone down. Let yourself be a little restless. Poems often arrive in that quiet space where nothing flashy is happening.