Almost
We barely tasted salt, those miniature icebergs
like crystals on tiny hairs of a neck.
We almost stood at the threshold of something great.
It was the ivory senates that nearly made us worried
as we virtually whistled down the lanes.
We practically objected to proposed laws.
The girls hardly carried baskets of petrified insects,
preserved ants trapped in resin.
We saw their suffering and almost thought of our sons.
We came close to thinking shorn lambs.
We came close to kissing the end of our days.
But it was too early. We were almost sixteen.
It was almost too good to be emotional.
We were close to forming gardens.
We went to sip from our blue cups but the bombs
caught us merely blowing at the lips.
We were almost quenched.
