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Mar 31
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Ah, yes, Don McLean's line in Starry, Starry night.

Poem for Vincent Van Gogh

Vincent,

I can forgive the antics,

The impassioned passion

The drink in Gaugin's face.

Vincent,

I can forgive everything....

Except the end.

Because

A fog danced on a water lily.

Because

A chair pranced about a room.

Because

A pipe loomed like a tree.

Because.....

Because.....

An adult had the eyes of a child

To open the bruised eyes

Of adults like me

With painted brush strokes

Of greens, yellows, oranges, blues

And colors until then unseen.

And refused to keep seeing

What the world will ignore

Except shown through eyes

Such as yours, Vincent.

No fun there, Vincent.

To tease us with such beauty

Then cut it of so abruptly

Like a glance of Autumn dawn seen-----

Then covered by brackish night.

A gift like that isn't yours, Vincent.

And you had no right to deny it

When we awaited it so expectantly.

Even if we delayed the applause

(When it came)

EXPLODED!!!

And you weren't here to hear it.

(Although somehow I know

There's a corner of heaven

Where you're still painting

Now loved, while we here mourn.)

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