Van Gogh’s ear

by Shibani C

Van Gogh’s ear waits,
In the tiny cleft of time curled between,
Blood fresh and congealing,
Ebbing out.

Humans wait patient,
For flies to fall on their tongues.

Moons hurtle, grass unfurls,
Oceans hold whale scents and fish tears,
And spaces between paint and canvas in which Van Gogh’s ear lies,
Many times baked in midnight sun