Because his wife refused to miss a dress fitting,
she missed his death instead. He painted to the last,
a portrait in profile of his gardener sitting
in a green light, with a sprawling shadow cast
on the wall behind him. His son too arrived too late,
preferring with his mother the rich life of Paris.
Then, thinking his fame wouldn't last and heavy in debt,
they quickly sold his paintings, foolishly reckless
in their acceptance of small sums. 'You see,' his wife
told Matisse, 'Cezanne couldn't paint. He didn't have
the talent to complete his pictures.' Her fear
cost her a fortune. At the very end of his life
Cezanne wrote, 'Long live those who have the love
of color - true representatives of light and air.'