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Acquainted with the Night: The Art of Jerzy Nowosielski - Image Journal

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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, A luminary clock against the sky Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. I have been one acquainted with the night. ———————————————Robert Frost L ATELY I’VE BECOME acquainted with the night coursing through my veins. Like any good diabetic, I have to draw murky drops of blood several times daily to measure my sugar levels. This all began with a hospital visit some seven months ago. That was when I discovered my bloody secret. Around midnight I was led into a darkened hospital room which would be my home for the next week. My two companions through this night, and the dark days that followed, were sleeping. These two octogenarians lay peacefully offering intimations of death, or childhood, in their beds. Their diapers filled our temporary camp with a smell that outdid anything t

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, A luminary clock against the sky Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. I have been one acquainted with the night. —————————————— —Robert Frost L ATELY I’VE BECOME acquainted with the night coursing through my veins. Like any good diabetic, I have to draw murky drops of blood several times daily

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