Regrets

There is something
I’ve never told anyone,

regrets are hazardous,
like when curiosity

seekers try to get a closer
look at a UFO and instead

get abducted.
Like a murder of crows

that follow you down
the street at night wearing

nothing but pea coats
with large buttons,

you try to befriend them
with breadcrumbs—

that’s not what they want
beware!

I have seen UFOs. I have seen
Cessnas alight onto day lilies.

I have seen moths that pretend
to be butterflies. I have seen

the back of you as you walked
past me, the heels of your shoes

and the collar of your button-
down shirt. I was hiding

in the bushes. I wanted
to surprise you.

A wilted daffodil
in my teeth.

Margaret McGowan has a BA in English Education from UAlbany, State University of New York and is the author of Ancestors and Other Poems (2021). She was a finalist in the 2022 Stephen A. DiBiase Poetry Contest and received an Honorable Mention in the HVWG Poetry Contest 2019. Her poems have been published in Qu, Hobart, Moon Park Review, The Raven Review, Eunoia Review, and elsewhere.