Regret, Not For Me

Broken tree limbs discombobulated from its’ roots

The air is crisp, but the night struck too soon

The moon has illuminated within his nestled home

The stars reap brightness, rains’ visit has been sown

The sun came and set like a dependent who is now on her own

Time flies once we glance back at what was once unknown,

A little girl who raced the prairie with petals she would carry

Now hands them off for one younger to throw down for the one she

Will marry

The grass was green with sprouts of weeds, and we would moan and

dolly

Winter arrives, the grass is dead, and we ache with our own folly

What is here we treasure now for tomorrow what will it bring?

I only hope that when I look back, I will have enjoyed every little

Thing.