Articles gone,

lost to time,

to that decision of mind.

Back then is not here now.

The past cannot be rewritten –

said longingly; mournfully.

What can be done then?

With this awareness that

even the subtle shifts

of the wind

can move a leaf

from the tree to the ground.

What now?

Second-guessing the present

thoughts, but can never

guess that future self.

Human nature – the writer states –

is like the seasons.

Change, constant change.

Perhaps expected, but

can never be guessed.

So what?

How do we avoid that plague –

that thing we call regret

for our actions?

How to take the right path,

when we can't see where it ends?

Well, the poet begins,

it starts in the thinking.

So, stop with the thinking.

Be like the leaf, letting the wind

take you wherever.

An expected “answer”, or “resolution”,

but perhaps not the worst thing

a poet could say.