Regret

Neither Jealousy, hunched in a ditch,

Scrutinising that face,

Nor Envy in high branches,

Downwards-looking, quantifying that.

No one sets Regret clattering,

Yet, like a star, it burns more brightly,

The instant 'what might have been'

Is expelled from the sky.

Like Etruscan ancients we trawl the past

Mapping the flashes of our stars.

© Wendy Vacani

All rights reserved