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.