Twirling madly with his stars
In Arles
Surrounded by night at the café
Where he drank pastis
Bonding
With his sun illuminated wheat
Taking a walk among
The wind blown cypress trees
His girating irises
His spinning suns
Loosing my eyes
in his self portrait of red hair
intent stare
Of genius
How sad ...they never told you
What a giant you were
Colette Anne Naegle
copyrights 2005