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 bring
You 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 ruthlessly
Wither your slouching jungle grace.

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