Farmington

The road is finally open, its pavement

Smooth and black, the orange barrels

Scattered far from my eyes.

The September air is cold in the Forest Park

Baptist Church parking lot as I walk up

The path to the bridge. Across the street,

Through the stainless fence, the sign is clear

on the concrete overpass north of OCC.

I can barely stand and stare, the

Vehicles on 696 like an army of drums

Beating constantly, the motion of the

Pavement rocking the bridge,

Never slowing down,

My eyes barely able to

Open, the cold sadness glaring

Across the road.

It is 8:30, 13 days and five hours

After she leapt, alone in the dark.

I cannot bare to imagine her last moments,

The awful emptiness of despair.

Why is the concrete wall so short?

Why wasn’t there a high fence

Across the street that could not be climbed,

That would stop a young girl

From scaling such height and valor

To face darkness and death? I stand

Still, waiting a minute for the

Breath of her spirit to shhh

In my ear, I’m here, I’m here,

I know now how many mourn

That I’m gone….I can see the sign

Where I fell and felt my last breath…

Rachael, We Love You Forever.

I wait for her aura but the morning is

So mournful, the cars on Farmington

Whispering something else,

No breath in my ear,

Just a faint prayer of

Rachael floating wherever

Her sisters’ dreams propel

Her shadow, down empty roads

Without cars, no pavement,

No sadness or cruelty,

Just floating, floating.