Words for the Week

I’ve been reading an insatiable amount lately. Henry Miller, Lawrence Durrell, John Steinbeck, Charles Bukowski, Anaïs Nin, Ernest Hemingway, Walt Whitman, Sylvia Plath.

I came across this poem by Robert Frost in one of my books, ‘You Come Too’ just the other night. I thought it was worth a share in the event that these words might strike one of my readers…just the same as they have so successfully spoken to me.



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-by;
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 Lee Frost (1874-1963)

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