no thought or regret

 brash thunder in the dark is low and deep

it bids us rest and dream of milky light

of other places where with fresher sight

the follies of the seasons slower creep

may well be judged by those who always keep

a weather eye for things to come out right

as safe from mortal horror that's the plight

of one who knows just what hides down in sleep

there's better clarity in the grey dawn

a different heat another sort of life

to be confronted choices to be met

one fearful terrapin seen on the lawn

draws in its head for fear of hurt or strife

but then goes on with no thought or regret