It is not Selena but Selenicerus
A shade pale white and bending a little
As a little child, I remember waiting up at night
And being excited to see one bloom at a corner of our terrace
Had never occured then that this 'Fragrance of the Night'
Whose bloom made the onlookers proud
Would be stooping down due to the unbearable weight
And perhaps was wincing every now and then
From the searing pain down its slender stem
(An ode to the 'Nisagandhi' )
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