Undergrowth with Two Figures-Van Gogh
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This is no Eden
Yet the mirror is perceived
Lush tangle of undergrowth
Army of bare, crooked trees
Who formed thee in madness
Has blown fetid breath
Stirring twitches and jerks
Necromancer of death
Cold pale face a question
Bride groom of lunacy
A nightmare interpretation
Lucifer's garden fantasy
So still while I attend
Do not dare look away
From the corner of my eye
Creeping quickly to prey
Under skirt of homespun
Limbs crack, dislocate
With swift wind evil runs
pounding hooves of your mate
Turning now in retreat
Though I fear the unknown
I hear your pursuit
Bone clicking on bone
When next time that I brave
Behind me, a quick peek
You both disappear
Becoming one with the trees.
My new purchase in hand
I leave the museum
Unwrapping this art
For the pleasure seeing imparts
Driving home now, heart pounds
As every time I turn around,
The scenery changes to match
the vision through mirrors I catch
Just as in the frame
You seemed to rearrange...
And I know that you now follow me.
Copyright © Crystol Woods | Year Posted 2025
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