A Trip To The Met MAG

By Unknown, Unknown, Unknown

   

With but oneear,
A broken heart,
not a penny to his name,
hedied.

But,
today I saw him.

Captured inoils,
swirled upon naked canvas,
Van Gogh lives beneaththe strokes of his impressions.

A corn strawhat,
casts away the sun from his weather-beatenface,
give way to his eyes,
peering through theglass
to reflect back mine.

And throughhundreds,
of millions,
of tiny mirrors,
reboundedand reflected,
a shutter
opens,
then closes.
Apicture to last a life time
has been taken.


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