The belching ghost-wail of the locomotive trailing her rattling wooden tail into the jazz-band sunset. The mountains in a row set pinnacles of ferocious isolation under the alien hot heaven Vegetable cripples of drought thrust up the parching appeal cracking open the earth stump-fingered cacti and hunch-back palm trees belabour the cinders of twilight. … | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SORROW SINGERS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE YOUNG WARRIOR by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON TO A SCREEN-MAKER by MARIANNE MOORE EASTER HYMN by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE LIGHTS OF NEW YORK by SARA TEASDALE |