After Eight

After eight
People die
Mint and mine
I’m still alive
If I’m breathing I’m
Still alive

Grocery store
Eight isles and more
The glossy paper

Sadness

A picture made me cry
Today it moved, it
Moved me

And I went where it
Beckoned so that
It would stop

Though really I am
Frozen somewhere, down
Inside myself

So it could never move
Me like I think
it would

If I were not made of
Ice, made of all the
Little things

M.
Sep 12/15, woodburning on plywood with red gel pen