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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 

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