The walls were littered with images,
a funeral feeling about the room.
Somber, angry, wasted.
There were tears gathering in her eyes,
small and worn
and utterly, almost terribly alive;
her young beauty beginning to ebb.
She made a little gesture,
pinched and unnerving.
I was afraid, startled.
When would I have the courage?
I turned away,
followed Gramma down the stairs.
I had missed the moment.
I wasn't entirely sorry.
