Stephen Bone

Stephen Bone Featured Poet

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Arctic Fox

 

For decades it must have hung –
this last relic of her vanity –
like an unwanted rescue dog
in her wardrobe’s mothballed cave.
Room to breathe, the Danish furrier had said.
Burlesquely I wrap myself in its embrace,
feel an almost living warmth, dark hint
of an Arctic summer running through
the narrow head and back.
A stale whisper of its perfumed history,
returning her in Kodak colour
sipping Fernet Branca on Alpine terraces
or promenading Cunard decks. Mouth full-blown
with Victory Red; amber eyes like set traps.

 

Ode To A Deckchair

 

Roused
from cobwebbed hibernation,
you regain yourself, emblem
of holidays. Sun soaked
dreams of cornflower skies
and slumped ease
unfolded
with your teak bones.
A weathered veteran
brave faced to the washout
in city parks, suburban yards;
a salted sea dog,
your striped lap punching
back at the gale, robust
as the bandstand’s brass
blown tunes. Far
from the pier’s oily air
your true worth shown;
benign as a lifeboat
among the shoes
and crockery
you offer yourself,
a buoyant chance
against all odds.

 

In-the-Cinema-Stephen-Bone-242x300In The Cinema, published Playdead Press 2014, £7.99
To read a review go to Robin Houghton’s blog here.

 
Stephen Bone started writing poetry several years ago, encouraged by Alan Ross. His work has appeared in magazines including Seam, Smiths Knoll, The Interpreter’s House, The Rialto among others. He has worked in television, theatre and film.