With Vincent by Terry Bain

With Vincent

April Second

look at the brush strokes 
imagine the artist’s movement
his arm

stroke after stroke 
collecting his surroundings, if 
he notices the grasshopper

caught in his field 
left to struggle, painted over, he lets
it stay

how long the creature lived 
forever tricked
by fresh oils, so bright

incredibly more real than 
the grain of wheat from which 
she leapt

always ours 
here captured by color 
so drawn onto his field

into a breeze brushing 
wheat, pushing cypress
we

are the grasshopper, 
trapped and waiting 
to be covered in Madder Lake or

chromate
the artist also trapped 
by his own snare

that thrusts against his
brushes 
against reason, against desire

until he stops and admires
the struggling viridean insects
signs his name on our

wings, which is how 
we learned we
could fly

Terry Bain is the author of You Are a Dog and We Are the Cat ‡ TwitterInstagramLetterboxdTinyLetter
Copyright 2019 Terry Bain