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EULOGY FOR THE ELDON GALLERY, WATERLOO

Cyndi MacMillan Avatar Cyndi MacMillan - LIFETIME Premium Member Cyndi MacMillan - Premium MemberPremium Member Send Soup Mail Go to Poets Blog Block poet from commenting on your poetry

Below is the poem entitled EULOGY FOR THE ELDON GALLERY, WATERLOO which was written by poet Cyndi MacMillan. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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EULOGY FOR THE ELDON GALLERY, WATERLOO


Once, it sold cultivated 
pigment, before it became 
a catacomb of cardboard drapes.
Makeshift out-of-business signs
made me wonder if the gallery owner 
intended his display,
subtitle: irony frames rage. 

Gone, the watercolour 
weeping chartreuse, a harsh backdrop 
of morose blues; Gone,  the oil 
on wood, knife strokes applied 
so thickly, it almost moved; Gone, 
charcoal sketches of thunderstorms 
greying the shores of Port Elgin.

Dark, now, halls that sheltered 
dreamscapes, art undisciplined, squeezed 
into corners, elbowing for attention. 
I ache 
                                for one dove 

that clung to an azure sky, 
the coo of my name, 
but I'd been unable to take him home 
to my cube cage. He deserved 
a rectory or a view that would provide 
sanctuary. His wings had beat against 
pulse points; one feather
tickled a memory 

of a robin that aimed 
for a cloudless sky but
collided with a picture window —  
its point of contact left a scarlet smear.
Grandmother carefully wrapped 
the corpse in yesterday’s news.

I trudged to the garbage can, 
unseen, found D-E-A-D
in its shroud, snuck to the garden 
and buried it under tall phlox, 
florid snap dragons; a child sobbing, 
wrenched by a world 
where beauty is fragile, 

                                disposable.

Today, people walk along the street, 
hold devices that fail to signal
that something living slowly
starves to death, atrophies; I watch
a happy girl point to a puddle, 
but her mother fails to see 
the large coin it holds.

There had been a portrait, 
like a sun shower, its perfect fault lines 
of light and rain, a woman shoed in waves, 
almost overtaken, her footsteps 
stolen by unnatural foam…
I am so sorry, artist unmet, 
do you even know 

                                you've flown 

into a shut window. 






Copyright © Cyndi MacMillan

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  1. Date: 6/11/2015 8:17:00 PM
    Oh MY fav!! really filling, yummy, titillating! Light & love

  1. Date: 5/18/2015 6:38:00 AM
    Hmm...and lol... after speaking to a souper about lines and spacing, I came here. Now I see an opportunity in the last three lines to change this a bit. I think I will tomorrow :)

  1. Date: 2/21/2012 12:31:00 PM
    It is so sad to see art shops like this one close, Cyndi. People DO seem to be walking with "blinders" today, all caught up in the material world. Attention to the arts has suffered so much as a result of this. You're an amazing writer! Love, Carolyn

  1. Date: 2/20/2012 8:40:00 AM
    Dear Cyndi -- You are some writer. Your piece if filled with reality and allegory, mourning and regret. The bird is a magic touch and oh that puddle. Thank you for the pleasure of reading this today. love, Kathy

  1. Date: 2/20/2012 7:44:00 AM
    I will be an old forgetful Papa someday telling his great grand kids, "I told Cyndi that she would be famous someday" and my grand kids will tell Nana, "He says that every time we're here"! The owner's rage, loud grays, personification of elbowing paintings, your room as a cage too small. You own those paintings in that magnificent mind of yours. I posted you to my favorite poet list...but you were there already!

  1. Date: 2/19/2012 3:33:00 PM
    Just read this with my Dad who is visiting this weekend. WOW again WOW at your talent. Please keep 'm comin' and that line "wrenched by a world where beauty is fragile and disposable" really got me. Namaste of course !N

  1. Date: 2/18/2012 9:07:00 PM
    Wow, Cyndi! I feel like I'm the one walking past the window of the gallery. Amazing write! Blessings, Rhonda