I. Van Gogh’s “The Sower”
We live
knowing how Van Gogh’s incendiary sun
stabs at a wheatfield in Arles,
the vivid, ecstatic colors of his passion, his diligence,
framed by farmwork clarity. But also knowing
that he was helpless to paint
and not be engulfed by what he saw.
A man sowing seeds over blazing ground.
Hard life and ecstasy. These are what Van Gogh
dreamed of as he slept in his clothes,
sweating them through—
fields in which a man could find himself,
in which cut wheat and tanned skin
share the same buttery shade of gold.
II. Matisse’s “Interior w/ a Violin”
Sleep. A bed in cool shadows.
Something or someone—a cat? a lover?
—has brushed against the fern by the door.
This is longing’s entryway. In this room
all we ever want is what is here—comfortable slippers,
ripe fruit, a pillow for our heads.
Why should the heat matter?
Or the beach below the balcony?
A woman that we love—
or simply desire—
has taken off her clothes.
In one slow deliberate move, we step forward,
certain of our place.
Originally Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 2.
