The Trees

The Trees

1920 1281 Glen Wilson

 
Three shadows on the hill
from one the sap runs red,
Pierced water pours and spreads
and the gnarled roots, have their fill

The bough supports its thicket crown,
veins pulse, the bark punctured,
branches aching, bleeding dew.
A severe weight bears down.

A blackened bleak sky cracks,
spilling time and grains of truth.
The land pauses, utters the line
from the clayed soil he comes back

 

Glen Wilson

Glen Wilson lives and works in Portadown, Co Armagh. He is Worship co-ordinator at St Mark's church Portadown #StMarksPortadown #Manna He has been widely published having work in The Honest Ulsterman, Foliate Oak, Iota, Southword and The Incubator Journal amongst others. In 2014 he won the Poetry Space competition and was shortlisted for the Wasafiri New Writing Prize. He was shortlisted for the Seamus Heaney Award for New Writing 2016. He is currently working on his first collection of poetry.

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