[Still Life: Vase with 15 Flowers ; Vincent van Gogh, 1888]........

after  van Gogh’s Sunflowers 
Shared affirmation through things
insoluble while sorbent, that is,
seep of invisibly clear water 
into stalks of sunflowers cut
from echoic month of October-
calico paper with edges furling 
imagination. In mild crepe light,
earthen seeds embed the tawny
corollas. Nowhere else to go,  
present in fictile vase for life’s
response. Exiled to reach beyond
memory. And whether grown, 
crafted, inspired, or curated,
same ill sophisticate gleaners
select from the partially random  
while transiently hearted. Which
means, ones appearing not best,
rather, those wholly moved 
interiors, old cottage textures
wound with interswell of country
breath over florid chintz.  
As about improvement? Instead,
assimilate rye oil of affect
from inherency spun turned  
with a birthing-death gesture.
Poised, then, with obscure questions
forming definitive messages  
of pinnate series both now and
from a time ago. That course
of our saw-toothed venations.

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