susan_okeefe (susan_okeefe) wrote in wordygirls,
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susan_okeefe
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Poetry Friday -- From Robert Frost to Writers


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 by 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
from New Hampshire

 

I’ve heard this poem interpreted as an elegy to homelessness, surrender to the universe’s benign indifference, and so on. But it has always spoken to me about the writer’s emotional life—or at least our emotional life at certain times.

 

What poem speaks to you the most about writing?

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