Almost Love You answer the door laughing; It is the laughter of welcome. You take my hand and lead me As if my hand were a gift. You make me think I know you, That I have known you in childhood And in the winters of war, that I have lain with you on silver sands And braided sweetgrass in your hair. I imagine moonlight on your breasts And green lightning in your eyes. It is almost love, almost a story to tell.
