To Robert Frost

you have been acquainted with the night
I have known the night
you have walked out in the rain and back in the rain
I have stood in the desert looking for the rain
you have out-walked the furthest city light
I have out-walked the allays without the light

you have looked down the saddest city lane
I have looked at the neighborhood with pain
you have passed by the watchman on his beat
I have seen them and took their beat
and you dropped your eyes, unwilling to explain
I never dropped my eyes yet they launch a complain

you stood still and stopped the sound of feet
when far away an interrupted cry
came over houses from another street
I stood still but couldn’t stop
the sound of a cockroach’s feet
when I pleaded with carriage with my cry
when they banquet on the babe’s blood across the street

if you were not called back or none came to say good-bye
and you knew further still at an unearthly height
one luminary clock against the sky
will proclaim the time as neither wrong nor right
I join you in praises I too I’m acquainted with the night