van gogh

i'm unsettled
with a van
gogh blue
mood of cold
and want. my
sky is swirled
with blurred
stars. i feel
like something
is just out
of reach. beyond
the french
doors, past the
uncut lawn
bandaged loosely
with ragged snow.
past the bent
strands of oat
and pussywillow,
i'm too serious
and baffled by
this quiet bed
without flowers,
the bland clouds
of no new ideas,
there is no one
with a spark
to push me where
i need to be
pushed. i'd like
to say that this
too will all pass,
but i'm getting
worried about
losing one good ear.