(A sonnet for Seth, the Bath busker who made me cry)
Beneath the Stall Street Colonnades he sings
Of Vincent and his starry, starry night
The echo of his bright resounding strings
Infusing scintillating rain dropped light
As weary shoppers rest and take a breath
His voice falls low and sweet upon the air
By painted shades of Vincent’s starry death
Drawn forth, an ancient sorrow hard to bear
Hot tears spring and mingle with the mist
And brim and well and fall upon the ground
In blues and greys, like Vincent’s canvas kissed
By grief and madness; blesséd joyful sound
Of one man’s voice, uplifting, sweet and strong
The grave of Vincent opened, with his song
by Gail
gailfromdevizes 