Wheat Field With Ravens

My dad just found out he won second place in a poetry contest hosted by the South Carolina Writers Workshop. Congratulations, Dad!

Here it is:


Wheat Field With Ravens

The path from left,
brown and green, is his,
Vincent's path, dipping forward,
then back, up the middle, a field
of yellow wheat cut in two.
The storm about to fall
dark above the bright wheat,
lit, not by sun,
but by Vincent, a year
before the end. Vincent's
light, with ravens suddenly
starting, as if hearing
the single pistol shot followed
in six months by another,
younger brother Theo's,
leaving canvases scattered,
all but one unsold,
and us as heirs.


JC Raff
6-6-08/6-21-08