Flowers that bloom by night

Outside my window, there is a flower that blooms by night
During the day it is simply a stick blocking my view of the evergreens
A withered bulb, white petals that are wet-cat damp, colors washed out like community pool towels
It only seems to bloom when I am not awake, and by morning it looks again of tired tea leaves
But I will not dig up this flower, I will not corrode the stem or pluck the sometimes-weepy petals
Because at night she is a dancer
Her perfume waltzing into my dreams on the wind of a loon call
Coming to rest above antique books and grandmother quilts
Drifting down to dance
Glissade across the bridge of my nose
Gather like a misty purple crown above my head to crown me queen of the dreamers
What this flower cannot do by day 
It engulfs at night
Outside my window, there is a flower that only blooms by night
And though others may wish to pluck it
She will always find a home by my windowsill