Jonathan Steffen
Raw sky, thin grass, a naked cherry bough Foretell the blossom that I hope to see – Another springtime of this dying tree Whose untold fruits have dropped where I stand now.
My soul is a fox with a hen in its maw And the tingle of blood in its tooth and its claw
I am making a window on the world, A stained-glass window through which to look at things. It is very much my own creation,
Take a butcher’s red by Goya And an arctic blue by El Greco. Gently fold in an agonised beige by Grunewald
He left his sparrows waiting at the door And entered like a draught, his bare feet treading
Always the same old silence And the same old, Always different, Northern light.
You see me now as what I have become again: Chromework like mercury
In terms of the means of its production, poetry is one of the most economical of art forms. All you need is pen and paper.
Jonathan is very much looking forward to participating in this year’s Torbay Poetry Festival, whose theme is “Poetry and Music.”
I am delighted that my poem Road Atlas is being considered in the final round of this year’s Bath Poetry Café competition.
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