Driving to Town Late to Mail a Letter

I really like this poem because of the imagery, and because I can relate to it. I admire how Robert Bly and paint so vivid a scene in peoples' minds with only five lines. Everyone has been out on a night like this. A night where "the only things moving are swirls of snow." Personally, I enjoy the stillness and solitude of these nights ("There is a privacy I love in this snowy night"). It takes the focus off of everyday life, making things that seemed so important look so trivial in comparison. It gives you one of those moments where you feel you are so alive, and that life is so worth living. You know if you can get to the next moment in life where you feel like that, you will be okay. It's something no circumstance or person can take away from you. And, like the narrator, I have "wasted" time (depending on if you consider the time spent a waste) driving or walking around, simply to prolong the moment.