Singing Vincent Back To Life

(A sonnet for the Bath busker who made me cry) Beneath the Stall Street Colonnades he sings Of Vincent and his starry, starry night The echo of his bright resounding strings Infusing scintillating rain dropped light As weary shoppers rest and take a breath His voice falls low and sweet upon the air By painted shades of Vincent’s starry death Drawn forth, an ancient sorrow hard to bear Hot tears spring and mingle with the mist And brim and well and fall upon the ground In blues and greys, like Vincent’s canvas kissed By grief and madness; blesséd joyful sound Of one man’s voice, uplifting, sweet and strong The grave of Vincent opened, with his song by Gail