Regret.
Wind had risen,
gusts of near-winter slapped her cold face.
Pregnant grey clouds
fat as fresh dripping rolled in from the sea.
Then rents appeared
and an eyeing sun forewarned her again.
She decided
that hiding in shadows fostered deceit.
So mind set straight
her run-away shoes trod homeward to him.
Grass looks greener
but fence guilt with regret and duty wins.