Domesticity Doesn't Suit You Black-Eyed Susan 1993

(the ode)
I wonder sometimes when I glance at your intrepidity,
Hope your pleased and happy in your indoor land,
You posed stoically,
And one week now,
Please don't sprout legs and walk back off,
To that wildflower field,
That earth tone carpet with its lushes weave,
May satisfy you into believing,
It is the dark soil of the earth in which you came from,

I don't like seeming selfish,
But isn't all Art derived from that feeling?,
Otherwise nothing would be created,

All those wonderful paintings from your life,
Then time,
And the light,
Made even more,
Oh,
That dreaded change which is inevitable,

And on that certain morning,
Your dessicated blossoms and falling petals,
Now left that indication,
Sorry Black-Eyed Susan,
You may have faded into the bow of defeat,
But her vivid beauty on this canvas,
Still provoked a revision and immediate respect,
I will always see in my mind's eye.