What was I thinking?

I’m not even sure that

I know the answer to

that question. Did I ever

mention that, no matter,

the intention, thoughts

become suspended? Days

of my past mix together.

Former ideas whirl around

like a reverberating sound.

I couldn’t tell you what I was

thinking. All I know is what

I was feeling. Hindsight is 20/20.

Some days were bad even when

it was sunny. I look back before

walking through the next door.