A Conversation Between Portraits

(after Nora Heysen’s portrait, Robert H. Black MD c1950, and Self-portrait 1953)

Is that my jacket?

            Yes. It keeps me warm as I paint.

It’s my thinking jacket.

            It’s my painting jacket.

            What do you think about, in your jacket?

About the war, about meeting you.

About you. About you in your studio, in my jacket.

            When I’m painting in your jacket I think of you.

            I think of you bent over a table

            in your white coat

           testing the blood of soldiers.

            I think of me, sketching you—then.

I think of you painting me—now—in your studio

doorways behind you, framing you

infinite doorways receding, smaller and smaller.

In my jacket you blend in. You blend into that interior.

            Now—I paint you in a gentle landscape

           paint you thinking, in your jacket,

           blend you into that gentle landscape.

           I paint you looking elsewhere, not smiling.

You’re not smiling.

I’m not smiling because I can’t forget—then.

The landscape wasn’t gentle

but I smile inside—now

when I think of you in my jacket.

You’re looking at me, but you’re not smiling.

           I’m looking at you and I’m not smiling

           because I’m painting you

in a gentle landscape, in your jacket

           but I’m smiling inside

            because you make me warm.

            because I’m wearing your jacket.