The Earth Turns South/Alien

by Clement Richardson Wood

For works with similar titles, see Alien.

ALIEN

I saw a negro in the snow—His vast face dark and pondering,Shoulders whitened, and head hunched low.

What vagabonding lust could bringYou from the cotton-field's soft glow,The white magnolia drifts of Spring?

The thin sun here will whiten your face,The lean, long winters ruthlesslyWither your slouching jungle grace.

Our nights grow longer; better fleeThis callous and transforming place. . . .Or would you grow no more than we?