Thursday, September 11, 2014

Acquainted with the Night

I cannot stop revisiting some pieces of writing over and over, as if the lines are semi-autonomous creatures finding their way into my consciousness often for reasons I do not understand. While Robert Frost does not rank among my favorites, these lines, which are of the sort just described, do:
...further still at an unearthly height/One luminary clock against the sky/Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. 


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