Towering high above oil-stained lands, A rotting wooden structure stands. From the rude frame platform above A great iron cable limply hangs, Its lower end pulled loose from The broken concrete base. Halfway to the ground a splintered ladder Sways. It makes a hollow clatter When the wind comes in wild fury, Darkened by the gritty sand, Swirled from regions to the northwest -- And casts a veil of dust, obliterating space. The slush-pit, once filled with black waste oil, Is but a mass of heavy sinking tar; And where the shanty tool-house once stood near, Now lies a heap of blackened wood. But over the forgotten tower there shines the same bright star That cast its rays upon the derrick in an early year. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SELF-ANALYSIS by DAVID IGNATOW A SONG OF ETERNITY IN TIME by SIDNEY LANIER SYMPHONIC STUDIES (AFTER ROBERT SCHUMANN) by EMMA LAZARUS MONADNOCK IN EARLY SPRING by AMY LOWELL DOMESDAY BOOK: LILLI ALM by EDGAR LEE MASTERS A LETTER ON THE USE OF MACHINE GUNS AT WEDDINGS by KENNETH PATCHEN CHARLES CARVILLE'S EYES by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |