Almost
Stacy Julin
If not for God
and penicillin,
life would have been
hours long.
As a moth lives,
young and oblivious.
Dreams,
ambitions –
like the snowflakes,
were too delicate
on a window.
Melting before I could
touch them.
The watching stars
must have made bets,
popped popcorn
to watch those almost-moments,
like a predictable football game.
If I could see it laid out,
with the warning of big bumps,
like a topographical map,
I might hide underground
in fear of the coming.
Better to be like the moth,
who flies in the light,
not knowing.
Published in The Southern Quill. In the process of writing this poem, I started to realize how important it is that we don't know our future. We are living at our best, and not living "in fear of the coming."
STACY JULIN'S work has been published in Oyster River Pages, Pirene’s Fountain, Sweet Tree Review, Southern Quill, and Word Fountain, and has been nominated for The Pushcart Prize. She is the author of three poetry chapbooks, A Pebble Thrown in Water (Tiger’s Eye Press, 2010), Visiting Ghosts and Ground (Finishing Line Press, 2018), and Things We Carry (Finishing Line Press, 2024). She lives with her family at the base of the beautiful Wasatch Mountains.