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.