The sun blazes in silence for there is no one to speak to like the sun. The men sit under it, bored, filled with inferiorities and resentments which they turn toward the blue onyx of the sky, sending up planes in defiance, whipping the air, but nothing is said, for the sun leaves behind its own contempt: darkness and cold. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY HUT; AFTER TRAN QUANG KHAI by HAYDEN CARRUTH BRIGHTNESS AS A POIGNANT LIGHT by DAVID IGNATOW A SEA-SHORE GRAVE by SIDNEY LANIER SPRING WIND IN LONDON by KATHERINE MANSFIELD TWILIGHT SONG by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON FISHERMAN IN SONGKHLA by KAREN SWENSON |