Meeting Midnight by Carol Ann Duffy I met Midnight Her eyes were sparkling pavements after frost. She wore a full length, dark-blue raincoat with a hood. She winked. She smoked a small cheroot. I followed her. Her walk was more a shuffle, more a dance. She took the path to the river, down she went. On Midnight?s scent, I heard the twelve cool syllables, her name, chime from the town. When those bells stopped, Midnight paused by the water?s edge. She waited there. I saw a girl in purple on the bridge. It was One o?Clock. Hurry, Midnight said. It?s late, it?s late. I saw them run together. Midnight wept. They kissed full on the lips And then I slept. The next day I bumped into Half-Past Four. He was a bore.