A better photographer could have captured the moment
as she
descended the stairs,
hopping really
barefeet, carrying her shoes in one hand
a handful of sweater with the other
A more adroit person might have taken a series of pictures
six or seven in a row
top of the stairs
halfway down
then the fall
lastly her body, collapsed at the bottom,
neck twisted at a terminal angle
her shoes thrown across the room
A better photographer might have saved every image
but mine were the hands that waxed the steps and
my eyes will keep the only memory
Quest