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Get More at COMMENTYOU.comStarry Night"That does not keep me from having a terrible need of -- shall I say the word -- religion. Then I go out at night to paint the stars."--Vincent Van Gogh in a letter to his brotherThe town does not exist
except where one black-haired tree slips
up like a drowned woman into the hot sky.
The town is silent. The night boils with eleven stars.
Oh starry starry night! This is how
I want to die.It moves. They are all alive.
Even the moon bulges in its orange irons
to push children, like a god, from its eye.
The old unseen serpent swallows up the stars.
Oh starry starry night! This is how
I want to die:into that rushing beast of the night,
sucked up by that great dragon, to split
from my life with no flag,
no belly,
no cry.-Anne Sexton
