Ruby Green Sings

Ruby Green Sings

Vilma Blenman

I did not go to gaze at art in that room 
reserved only for women waiting—sitting and
staring, holding their pretty purses, holding
their breath and broken breasts—waiting to hear
their names called to hear news or not to hear. 
Soon the doctor would call for me, stare at my left breast
then check the screen and speak serenely as she inserts
the necessary needles and makes meticulous notes 
for the surgeon’s directions. All this I knew waiting outside
frozen inside like a naked statue and no Pygmalion present.

Was it by chance I glanced upward and caught her gaze 
from a grey wall?      
I saw all from my seat: her dark eyes encircled in light,
her head held upright, her honey-hued hands clasped  
at waist height—confident, resplendent in painted pose.   
But when I stood I saw the red courage of her dress:
Ruby Green Singing, James Chapin, circa 1928.

What did he feel as he painted her poste haste
after he heard her sing the deep-throated spirituals or
after he mixed oils then made marks on canvas?
Did he fear her songs might die?
The Black singer, the white painter—both gazing into light 
beaming beyond themselves then taking us
towards their source.
When I sit in waiting rooms, I still hear Ruby Green singing
 and still feel fearless—fallen, but fearless.

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Vilma Blenman
Poet

Vilma is a Jamaican-Canadian poet who lives in Pickering, Ontario. Her poetry has recently been featured in the Crossings Toronto 2022 art exhibition.

Cover Painting by James Chapin