The Snow-Blossoms

Clark Ashton Smith

But yestereve the winter trees
Reared leafless, blackly bare,
Their twigs and branches poignant-marked
Upon the sunset-flare.

White-petaled, opens now the dawn,
And in its pallid glow,
Revealed, each leaf-lorn, barren tree
Stands white with flowers of snow.

Printed from: www.eldritchdark.com/writings/poetry/511
Printed on: November 19, 2017