…would have slain me to see what would not now be in them

had I looked
had I taken the flight
picked up the phone
called myself to task
shown up wearing black

would have slain me to see her wearing the periwinkle dress from my wedding decades ago

had I been brave

to see her pretty hands that she hated to watch age, crossed over her belly familiarly like when she dozed in her chair next to his empty one

had I been a little more selfless

would have slain me to comb her mom hair and paint her nails pink one last time and tuck her fancy shoes in by her feet and favorite afghan

had I been stronger I know that her divine eyes would no longer refuse to look into mine, since the sorrow which seemed eternal and would have slain me to see what would not now be in them.