Palms

Clark Ashton Smith

Palms in the sunset of a languid summer land !
Sculpture of living green, on dreamy scarlet light
Dividing as a wall the twilight from the night !
How magically still and luminous they stand,

Inclining fretted leaves above some red lagoon-
Careless alike, in mystic and immense repose,
Of the flamingo-colored, flying sun that goes,
Or the slow coming of the lion-colored moon.

Printed from: eldritchdark.com/writings/poetry/420
Printed on: April 19, 2024