It’s hard to imagine the emotional and physical roller coaster Brenda rode during this period in her life. Her poetry is a window into those experiences, but we only get vague glimpses.
Despair (#79)
© Brenda
October 20, 1972
Wearily I listen
The death knell is sounding
My soul is dying
My body does not hear
So shall live on
To some ignoble end
Then it to
Shall hear
The death knell sounding
