Rachel Whiteread, Ghost, 1990
Plaster on Steel Frame
105-7/8" by 139-15/16" x 125"
Gift of The Glenstone Foundation
National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.
after Rachel Whiteread's Ghost
Nothing breaks
out.
Gridded tiles
of ice
stacked
and mortised
shut in
a room stripped
to contain its air-
locked self.
Nothing leaves
the walled void,
not by a black hole
in the door's
handle. A switch
reverse-depressed
freezes what light
calls you to,
the negative
surfacing white.
Dickens himself would
be cold here.
© 2013 Maureen E. Doallas
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10 comments:
Fine poem, Maurren. I feel cold just reading it (and I'm not Dickens).
A great attitude, and a great travel to read this poem. Thanks.
Cold and clarifying. An eloquent ekphrasis.
Clean and clarifying. An eloquent ekphrasis.
I've seen this piece by RW myself and found your poem to be a skilful rendition and response to the work. Enjoyed a lot - along with the measured confidence in your verse.
Regards
Scott www.scotthastie.com
a little cold and maybe snowed in there eh? lucky i am sitting next to a heat vent right now...smiles
Shivering ...
A very nice pome and a well travels one too. Truely enjoyed this
Felt chilly to me too!
ooh yes i feel like this in a lot of stark architecture. well described.
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