Jack Hodil

 

No More Shade

I stopped writing about trees.

Like anything,
you get to the point where
you have just said enough,
and turn into nothing but
another lumberjack,
still stopping short of
the roots.

holding it in

they say you can't hold your
breath to death,
and after many attempts,
I agree.

the fading light always comes first,
then the blank dark,
then the hazy gray.
always this,
just like that.

but I still try to hold it in anyway.

so the dark keeps following
the light,
and I keep waking to gray.
always that,
just like this.


CP

Jack Hodil prefers dogs over cats and both over people. His poems have appeared in Word Riot.