regrets come free.



free as rain on my face



to wash through to take it all away; better that way.

into rivers below.



one time in tidal flood

water came down muddy & high took the cattle away

blocked  the bridge; we ran to see still in our pyjamas.



the boy came running to say the debris from the upper village

was on the way

to stand back.



we did

&

saw the water behind us.



retreated high up along the wall.



we named it the great storm & never remember the year.



some things are better swept away.