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.

Beautiful. Frost, a native of San Francisco and a man who endured great hardship and disaster in his life, was a magician as much a master wordsmith.

This poem underscores common issues of security as it relates to identity — authorization, authentication, and even accounting.

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