Addendum to a Woman Wearing Orange on the Franklin Avenue Bridge

Addendum 

(to a Woman Wearing Orange on the Franklin Avenue Bridge) 

Three months later where the homeless sat
I wonder about you, out over the Mississippi
From the northeast bank

You might not have ventured out on such a day
Of ice and wind: Grim counterpoint to your sunshine
Haunting the river

There have been others since, I imagine
From bridges this high, and like most events months later
It’s inconsequential

You remind me of things broken, however
The dishes of our lives, drown in landfills
And running out of gas

What a lofty way you went out, searching
For you in the news, hoping. Nowhere to be found
In the cloud

A little secret in journalism for the sake of others
Not publishing suicides. Or did you find your way
Back over?

I have not seen anyone in orange since
Your strange and lovely day, when you chose to contemplate
It all away

Rembrandt posed his models with candlelight
Muted warm with austere darks, considering the crux
Of their lives

Likewise, you hang onto the bridge in my memory
In a dark hallway, modeling the others
From your parapet

All the cheesecake, YouTube videos, bright orange
And yet, you slumped somehow, and it all made sense
That afternoon

Not enough dopamine, a breakup maybe, bad parenting
Trauma, or a lost mind. We all lose that at times, go blind
For no good reason

Here on the bench, overlooking you, being thankful
For the sticks, the slush with dog piss, for a bench
Cold as memory

Thankful for you, good woman, for not leaping, perhaps
And the precarious arch that spans past to present
And maybe beyond