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Van Gogh. "Wheat field with cypresses"

Van Gogh. “Wheat field with cypresses”

They are such mundane things, I know.
From their mouths emerge
the same faded
flowers into the raving
blast of a meridian sun.
Bright, actinic streams
embrace the desolation
of this frugal and torpid
resounding spirits turned
into some capricious shadow
against an unknown column.
I know, I know,
all stain is a crossing-out
with the shape of another swan
about to flap its wings
and open its song
without any memory for remembering
the silence that was shattered.