In Old Palm Springs Poem by Hans Ostrom

In Old Palm Springs



In old Palm Springs, north, just beyond
the charming attempts at glamour,
trunks of big palm trees look like
elephants' legs: parched, dermatologically
checked, and weary. The Earth
is each palm's shoe, and all the trees
are taking a walk through space.


hans ostrom 2017

Friday, January 20, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: travel
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