Quiet but not silent,
Those colors tell countless stories.
Though they can't tell me what
The two figures in the undergrowth were
And I doubt that Vincent
Could have told either,
With his one ear and
Only a month left to live.
Did he already know it,
that day in the woods?
Another story those colors can't tell,
Nothing about those paintings was
Only his own blue eyes, captured on
Canvas, seem to know profound
But the Artist's lips under the vermilion beard
And so do the two figures surrounded
By violet poplars.
Gogh's colors were too lively to speak of death,
That last month in Auvers.