NOON
by: Eugene O'Neill (1888-1953)
- 'IS noon,
the fitful sunlight feebly gleams
- Thro' hurrying clouds with dull uncertainty.
- Distorted shadows in strange fantasy
- Play like vague phantoms wandering in dreams
- Upon the shivering surface of the streams.
- The trees sway to and fro protestingly
- Dancing as if to the weird melody
- Of anguished protest that the north wind screams.
-
- The seer, dead leaves whirl in confusion by,
- Fleeing as if from nameless pestilence.
- A solitary hawk up in the sky
- Floats on the wind in peaceful indolence,
- Like some old God, who from Olympus high
- Looks on our dull world with indifference.
"Noon" is reprinted from
the New London Telegraph, 21 November, 1912. |
MORE
POEMS BY EUGENE O'NEILL |
|