The Ugly Tropics
The ugly tropics, actually improved
By stooping wind and rain, are shining green
In gray this slightly cooler hour. Palms moved
In harmony as if the storm had been
Engaging with an aeolian harp
Of fronds and bending fibrous trees. The sky,
Though dull like muddy clay, gives greens a sharp
Bright edge on upper sides that seems to eye
A halo luster—but stretched out in
Curves, not circles. True, the glistened trunks are
Round, perfect Eden shining before sin
But, still, an undertow of shadow far
Below this glossiness extends. The dark
Insists that sun on waves conceals the shark.