A good one for nighttime

It's been a while since I posted any poetical type stuff here. This one is called "Disillusionment of Ten O'Clock", by one of my faves, Wallace Stevens.

The houses are haunted
By white night gowns.
None are green,
Or purple with green rings,
Or green with yellow rings,
Or yellow with blue rings.
None of them are strange,
With socks of lace,
And bearded ceintures.
People are not going
To dream of baboons and periwinkles.
Only here, and there, an old sailor,
Drunk and asleep in his boots,
Catches tigers
In red weather.

Those last four lines have a kind of insight that makes poetry more than just sweet noises. That sounds like a sailor.