Poem: Vincent in Hiroshima

Vincent in Hiroshima
“A work of art is a corner of creation viewed through a temperament.”—Emile Zola

I.

Daubigny’s Garden, a late
masterpiece of Vincent van Gogh,
painted in July 1890 (the same month he died),
now hangs in Hiroshima. Talk about
ghosts of the blast. Beauty clings
to Horror, and still clings, even when
it let’s go; just as we suspected:
Siamese twins.

II.

Glimmer at the edge of fog.
Sphinx at sunset, red paws.
Oval flocks of moons while drunk.
A bow of measure in a coffee spoon.
The way her delicate lips pucker
while thinking of yesterdays
you never entered. 

III.

Back to Vincent in Hiroshima.
Back to the gravity of collage. How each day
slips into the groove of whirling
months. How the garden

swirls with flowers and a church
tower in his final summer. How
Vincent’s last words were:
“I wish it were all over now.”

How the true page is never printed. How
the puzzle we call history shrinks
as the world grows into one
piece of a larger puzzle.

Feature Image: Vincent Van Gogh’s ‘Daubigny’s Garden’