burnt in the furnace

JByronSchachner

illustrator: J Byron Schachner

 

Field with Wheat Stacks
            ~Vincent Van Gogh
by Barbara Crooker
He fell in love with a simple field
of wheat, and I’ve felt this way, too;
melted, like a pool of mint chip
ice cream, foolishly in love,
even though we know
how it turns out in the end:
snicked by the scythe, burnt
in the furnace of the August
sun, threshed, separated, kernel
from chaff. But right now,
it’s spring, and the wheat aligns
in orderly rows: Yellow green.
Snap pea. Sage. Celadon.
His brush strokes pile on,
wave after wave, as the haystacks
liquefy, slide off the canvas,
roll on down to the sea.
 
“Field with Wheat Stacks” by Barbara Crooker from Les Fauves. © C&R Press, 2017. Reprinted with permission.

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