after all

i noticed her face as he told her

“there was nothing we could do” —

saw the brightness fade, watched it crumple —

and wondered “is it worthwhile, after all?”

i have, in small ways, watched life

drain away and leave a husk behind

with grief too great for words —

is it worth it to have empty arms filled

only to find them empty again?

(perhaps, after all, it is.)