PoppiesBased on the painting Poppies by Vincent Van Gogh
Van Gogh understood that
The cherry-red tongues of petals
Curling upon the crushed charcoal
Center of a poppy was divine.
The fountain of blooms cascades over
The white-porcelain vase, held fast to
The cerulean sheen of the wall.
They jostled closer to the artist's head,
Each flaming blossom bursting like a
Tiny cell in his brain, a miniscule firework
Of sanity slowly unraveling into smeared,
Smashed scarlet, lime green, and vibrant azure.
They pressed against the canvas, shuffling
Closer until the final day their creator's ashen frame
Stiffened and withered in bleak fields
Where he took his own life, blood
Splattering from his parted lips like the
Blurred blooms over which he had labored.