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 http://foxy-feet.deviantart.com/art/
Bridge-Toes-177577089

I like the photo,
thinking about someone standing
on a bridge, contemplating
letting go, and then not.

She didn't jump,
but they did.
Officers and EMTs,
adrenaline high mixing
with what's left inside
their coffee cups, exhaust
from cars backed up around
the bridge as she stands crying,
trying to make sense
of everything that's
going on. She can't.
Exhaustion drives her too.
Life got so hard in such
a short amount of time, she's
ill-equipped to handle
it and maybe all
the pain would stop if
she could. Stop, I mean.
Stop thinking. Breathing.
Crying, trying, but the
uniforms won't let her.
Soft voices reason, talking
her away, back from the edge
onto the sidewalk that could
be a half-mile wide, it's solid,
safe, reflecting that they're
thankful they were paying
close attention at that seminar
and now it's here, a crisis
and they knew exactly what
to do. She'll be okay.
The people sitting in their
cars, impatient, wanting
to get home to drama of
their own, hot suppers,
arguments or chilling on
the sofa with their dogs,
some fuming, others praying
for the girl who wants to jump.
And then it's over, officers in
orange vests are waving cars along,
necks crane to catch a glimpse
of who it was that's causing
all the fuss, but she's already on the way
to somewhere with a quiet room
and medication that won't
change a thing unless she
wants it to. They came so quickly,
though, sincere enough they
started to get through to her.
So maybe she could. Start, I mean.
Start thinking, but a different way.
Start living in the present.
And maybe it will work or
maybe she will find another bridge
the next time without people
passing by, but not just yet.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2014

My husband was stopped from coming home for his dinner break at work last night because traffic was at a standstill due to
a woman threatening to jump off the St. Lucie West Blvd. overpass. Fortunately, it ended well for her.