a lady slid in
the grocery store door
as the man turned out:
a carefully orchestrated dance.
the space between them
left
hanging limply,
a little haunted
with the potential
of this almost human
connection.
life, it seems,
is a collection of
near misses.
it is not the pressing
in, the shock
of warm humanity
that kills us,
but the emptiness
that comes like an eddy,
swirling around
but not quite in,
not quite through --
almost.
November, 2015.
