– because of Paul Cézanne

Well earthed
the paintings tossed into the orchard
ferment.
wind sharp as branches,
dust and mold drunk on oils,
thick leaves exhaust their greens,
sometimes fruit expires
and then one afternoon,
the artist returns,
harvests her work,
scarred and colorful,
wind injured and wonderful,
takes them inside,
fills empty stomachs.

Michael H. Brownstein’s work has appeared in American Letters and Commentary, Skidrow Penthouse, Xavier Review, Hotel Amerika, Meridian Anthology of Contemporary Poetry, The Pacific Review, and others. He has nine poetry chapbooks including The Shooting Gallery (Samidat Press, 1987) and Firestorm: A Rendering of Torah (Camel Saloon Press, 2012).