The Gordon Bridge Incident

 

The Gordon Bridge Incident

“I’ll text you,” she called, as he withdrew
down the bike lane, left her to stand,
phone in hand, on the bridge,
watching him,
and she spun, one-footed,
almost a pirouette,
hands thrown skyward
in careless jubilation,
and the phone slipped loose,
a glittering trajectory
tumbling parabolic
to the river, and the pirouette
crumbled as she said, soft,
so only I could hear,
a stranger passing by,
“Oh my God, my life is over.”

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