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.
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.