Almost:

A poem about regret, hesitation, and living life in the in between

We almost made it, you and I,

The nearly-perfect-pair, no net below, in mostly

Trusted air, halfway up while

Halfway down, conveniently timid in our

In between, the safety zone we thought was

Ever there until, our cover blown.

We almost caught it, elusive love that

Shimmered somewhat less

The more we glowed. We scorned

The fearful, the sheltered ones who prize and

Strive for far; disdain the near.

We had it in our grasp: its lightning words a

Thund’rous clap that pealed and tolled, while

We hid from living’s storm. Thus…To my mere friend

Now fully lost: If life has one sad word,

Ours came close enough to sear:

Almost…