It was silly hat. She knew
it.
It was a straw hat with
sunglasses
Built into the brim, so you
could pull it down
Over your eyes.
Grabbing for my turn to wear
it, I knocked
It from my sister’s hand and
a gust of wind
Blew it through the car’s
window
Onto the freeway.
Freeways are like life, you
can’t go
Backwards. You can try to
retrace the route,
If you can find the way
back, but it will never
Be the same. She knew that.
So she did not try to go
back and get
The hat. Being twelve, I felt
guilty,
But through a childless,
single life of cheer
She has shown me that regret
is nothing
More than a lost hat.
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