Welcome to Four Lines! I have a goal I would like to write at least four lines of poetry or a haiku every day for the rest of my life. I'm excited about this challenge! Also, along with my daily poem, I will be reading at least four lines of another author's poetry. I'll try to include that here also. So I'm thinking - how difficult can it be to read and then write one poem a day? We will see! - Claudia

All poems on this blog, unless noted, are written by Claudia Callaghan.
© 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016 Claudia Callaghan
Used only with permission. Please feel free to join Four Lines and request permission.

Thursday, January 5, 2012

He didn't kill himself, Vincent Van Gogh,
      in a wheat field of yellow-gold,
         in a barn, forlorn, as some have told,
           from deep despair so hot, so cold,
              or for beauty heaven sent.
                 His dying was an accident.

Per authors Steven Naifeh and Gregory White Smith in their book "Van Gogh: the Life," 2011, Vincent Van Gogh was accidenally shot by two boys he knew with “a malfunctioning gun”.

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