Before you find me
I look out
Of the window
To the canal; also
In the foreground
My gaze falls
On a straight and plain
Drinkers glass
Used now as a vase
Filled with sunflowers
Tulips, and bluebells
From the woods
My body is exhausted
I have the beginnings
Of a stitch in my shoulder
A result of four long days
Walking, while wearing
My winter overcoat
The exhibition is exuberant
With the works of Vincent:
His ten years as an artist
Given
(We pay 15 euros each)
For all the world to see
Would I have remained
In the yellow house?
Would I have stayed beneath
The blossom in the orchard?
Would I, I might
Except for the fear of practice
This is a poem from Vagaries:
Love of The Key to Room 149