On the Brink of a Minnesota Bridge

Crack!
The support cables weaken.
The bridge groans wearily.
Snap!
Cars beep their horns, demanding to get onto that bridge.
A roaring sound.
The cement gives without warning.
60 feet down, cars tumble,
Into the muddy Mississippi river.
Where once was the sound of,
Cell phones ringing,
Traffics’ steady breeze,
Radios beating their way out of windows,
Now sounds crushing cement,
A deadly smack on the water,
A wall of water licking up cars,
Children screaming in a school bus.
And then…
Dust.
Silence.
As the cars and people sink helplessly
To the muddy river’s floor,
The reality sinks in,
For all of Minneapolis, Minnesota,
That those lives are changed forever.
And as sirens,
And children,
And pregnant women,
And parents,
And all that will be affected,
Scream,
You cannot help but think,
That as cars were slowly,
Inching onto the bridge,
And other cars were slowly,
Inching off of that bridge,
Had it cracked 5 minutes later,
Or 5 minutes earlier,
A whole different set of lives,
Would have changed.
Forever.