Posing With Mister Arnolfini, by ​Bill Holloway

The Arnolfini Wedding, by Jan Van Eyck (Belgium) 1434

Posing With Mister Arnolfini

He doesn’t look at me.
He doesn’t speak to me.
I wonder if he knows 
who I am?  Probably not.

When he grasped my hand 
the painter said (eventually)
Easy, man. You’re hurting her.
Now he holds it like a haddock.

It was always like this.
He never talked to me, 
just came and went, 
the same sour look on his face.

They say Costanza died 
in childbirth. Is that why the painter 
chose me? Do I look like her?
What happened to the kid?

You’ll be wondering why 
he holds his hand up like that.
It  means peace, painter,
enough of your questions – 

I don’t chat to artisans.
No, nor working girls, neither.
This maternity dress is nice.
Fits, too.  Perfectly.

Bill Holloway

​Bill Holloway is an 83-year-old retired gardener, living near Cheltenham. Literary near-misses include being long-listed in the National, short-listed for The Plough Prize and the Bridport flash fiction competition. He has just published his first book, Natural Causes - Poetry and Prose (1994-2019), which includes the poem above. He features fairly regularly in The Oldie magazine's competition page.