PHIL WOOD
★ ★ ★ ★
POETRY
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Image by Julia Pure
5 a.m.
Ashtray grey dawn
clawed to flame;
hush shredded
by soloists —
not a madrigal,
gladiatorial;
my eyes, tight
with clock tension,
unthread.
The promise
heard, a winter
ransom paid;
quickening soil
watercolours
with crocus and daffs;
sap and root
thread to songs
for living.
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Phil Wood was born in Wales. He studied English Literature at Aberystwyth University. He has worked in statistics, education, shipping, and a biscuit factory. He enjoys chess and learning German. His writing can be found in various places, including recently: Fragmented Voices, Gwyllion, Kleksograph and Green Ink Poetry.
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