Phil Wood

The Castellan
 
I shiver here, but walk these towered walls,
the stars speak clear. I know each shadowed fate
within these stones. They scorn the healing light.

They whisper in my ear. It is enough.
My shadow's here, along the battlement,
my duty's clear. A guard is deaf to doubt

and fear. My purpose ever fortressed here –
to guard their wintered souls. I press my head
against the stones. They shiver in my ear.

Phil Wood was born in Wales. He has worked in statistics, education, shipping, and a biscuit factory. He enjoys painting, chess, and learning German. His writing can be found in various places, including  Byways (Arachne Press Anthology), The Seventh Quarry, Noon Journal of the Short Poem, and Autumn Sky Poetry Daily.