My thoughts match the cold of the freezing rain
tiny little hammers assaulting windowpane
much as my thoughts assault my brain.
But where am I to go with this sad refrain?
Why should good ever come from pain,
if it also brings with it a touch of disdain?
Indeed, where lies the strength to refrain,
from the ever-present need to explain?
Too many questions. I may be insane –
but sanity is something I rarely ordain.
3/7/24
Karen McCaskey 