The Death Of Van Gogh

there was a blue road, marbled with white
he thought it was water in the dying sun
and a field the clearest of lemons

I have carried this sunflower heart in my hand
he cried all silently until I can hardly stand
and now it beats without me

so that the crows can see
and the blue road intensified
as if it were the sea

the painted clouds weeping

will I disintegrate now
half wondering he wandered
dissolve into time past - stumbling=

and dip the brush at least, at last
into a glass of swirling colours Theo!
let me drink it up

and the blue road with it

drink up the sun as if it were absinthe
and give God back His colours lent
and a shot rings out

in a field the colour of lemons
and he carries the gold of the sun
the feeling that life is done or seeping out

or bleeding in blues and yellows
and a burning, burning wound
and senseles slaughter

of the sunflower heart
at noon the blue radiance,
dissolving into God.

mary angela douglas 27 december 2017