Glass-green the sky and the sea,

Jade-green the trees and the terrible beasts,

Lime-green the long thin trembling clouds,

And the strange moon hanging overhead

Is every shade from palest chrysoprase

Through emerald to almost black

And the alien civilization is one spinel spire

Topped with an odd aventurine dome,

Rising over the scattered glitter

Of our gutted ship. As we sift

Through gilded fragments,

We realize that

Nowhere in this emerald city is there

Any way back to Kansas.