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.