Dear Woman Wearing Orange on the Franklin Avenue Bridge
Today, we could not cross back over
The Franklin Avenue Bridge, the flashing lights
Suggested an accident
It’s about four seconds down to the Mississippi
Could a car have blown through the rail?
Ask a young Somali guy watching from a bench
He points it out, and all you see
Where the perfect arc of strength thins at the apex
Is her orange blouse
A homeless man’s arms flail up to the heavens
Such things on a Sunday afternoon seem inconsequential
Until you see her form
And you pedal southeast to the Lake Street Bridge
Averting your eyes as you cross
The mighty river
Dear woman wearing orange,
Look around you, see us on the banks, rooting
And climb back over
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