…is a house, part of the horizon,
but interloper, the planned display
of tree corpses as sculpture, as shelter.
The walls are stained to slow decay,
the rings on wood split and widen
unable to spawn offspring they need to tell
how full they are of story, history.
We have not made straight lines
or brought order to the picture,
nature just pans out to see our folly.
We focus on what is ours
even if it a blasphemous pyre
in God’s Idyll, flickering for a second
then repainted out.
Glen Wilson lives in Northern Ireland with his wife Rhonda and children Sian and Cain. 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.