Anne Sexton The Starry 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 brother         The 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.         1961