A strange noise wakes someone in the dark, and the poem follows what fear does next. It begins with a striking image: fear as an ambassador, a formal visitor who knocks on every stair. The fear doesn't burst in. It arrives step by step, as if the house itself were delivering the message.
The speaker answers by getting up, and the image is almost funny: nightgown and slippers, hardly armor. Yet the speaker goes "as a soldier of the wind," which suggests a kind of ordinary, improvised courage. The final lines picture the night as thick wool, something heavy and muffling that the speaker must push against. The poem seems to say that dread feels enormous, but the person facing it is small and half-dressed.
The mood is tense and hushed, with a touch of dry humor. Short lines and simple words make it feel like listening hard in the dark, one step at a time.