Today's poem is by Annie Lighthart

The Gallery

Van Gogh stood in the rain at Saint Rémy
and later went off and died

and Winslow Homer did much the same
despite the expanse of fields behind him.

And we will have to leave the museum eventually,
we will be forced out, we will be escorted

to the single blot of a shutting door
as if there weren't a storm coming up,

as if we hadn't seen a smudged freighter
going down in the gallery

or known there were windows
to be closed back home

and no distance anymore
between the flower and the burning.

Copyright © 2011 Annie Lighthart All rights reserved
from Hubbub
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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