Roberto Clemente Bridge #2

The bridge burned yellow against the night.

We crossed after the crowds had gone, when the river kept every secret the city dropped into it. Halfway over, you stopped and looked back.

“Do you think a city remembers us?”

Below, the black water carried a thousand broken lights toward somewhere we would never see.

I reached for your hand.

The bridge trembled.

By morning, Pittsburgh had forgotten our footsteps—but the river had not.

Acrylic on Canvas 24″ x 24″ inches