The poems in Jean Stevens’ latest collection range through everything from a pub on the North York Moors on a black cloaked night, an encounter with a stranger in the dead hours in Soho and jackdaws who come mob-handed, to a reflection on Elisabeth Frink’s ‘The Walking Madonna’, an accident on black ice, a muddy quad bike, and a meeting with Beethoven in Burnley.
Among poems inspired by her Yorkshire Dales home (I’ve fallen in love with the bones of this place … where wind meets wind) are accounts of late love – when you’ve lost your hair, your waistline, your hearing, and your sweating stains the bed, and of quietly desolate loss: I thought I saw and heard you…
This is a body of work with a beating heart.
Read more about Jean Stevens here.
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