The Rich of This World

You can find God in the intricate folds
of drapery, the philosopher said,
yellow and lavender shadows spilling
across the fabric on gessoed fabric,
still life moving into reality,
so lush that the canvas cannot contain
its form and content. Color itself proves
Him, another one said, a miracle
(for every season) that need not have been.
Wicker baskets stretch to hold the heavy
plums, pears, pomegranates. And peppery
bay leaves scraping dryly the clean linens
make you wonder in a sober moment:
Do the rich of this world ever eat this good?