Acquainted With The Night

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
---Robert Frost

This poem paints a beautiful picture of the insomniac's wanderings, a path I have tread hundreds of times myself. It was after reading this poem that I felt a kinship with Frost. He uses common language to paint a picture of a common event, but still writes in a way that makes the event mystical and tragic.

I cannot tell exactly why, but I am haunted by Frost's description of the moon as "One luminary clock against the sky." I see the full moon as a gigantic white orb filling the night sky close to the horizon when I remember this line.

Frost preceded me by many years, but has made my late-night walks and musings more magical in a profound fashion. I hope you enjoy it too.

-brian