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,
O luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
A professor of writing once told his class that a good project would be to write a sonnet every day for a year. It was absolutely impossible, he said, to write 365 bad sonnets in a row. I've always wondered if he was right.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
"Acquainted with the Night" by Robert Frost
Labels:
Good Poems Not By Me
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