Van Gogh’s\ Flowering Peach Tree

A poem about finding contentment in life and decay

Vincent van Gogh: Self Portrait (National Gallery of Art) | Public Domain

I am just a human
I am just a patch in the quilt of time
Following old ruts,
running my hand over stitches
that feel
comfortable to
the Soft
of Me.

A peach ripening on a tree but not the tree
(white flowered, pink, his decision)
Destined to
probably
fall off before anyone can
Catch

Fruit-born:
Before anyone can
Taste my sweetness or decide /
For themselves \
If a name makes a difference; if the flavor does
Artist-like;
Van Gogh-like:

Peach Tree in Blossom.

Or if my words die here,
In the next few hours and days
left to slowly and fragrantly meet
Death

on a grass mud orchard floor…
{Perhaps} enjoyed by a few
wandering hungry travelers.