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I heard a cry

a muffled scream

A woman's I'm sure

Late one night

as I crossed the Queen's Chapel Bridge

No other commuters

Tired and insular,

heard the noise,

A sound that punctures,

Ruptures guilt.

I should have done more,

I knew then I should not walk away.

Cocking my head,

looking out at the wall of trees,

I strained to hear.

Craning my neck,

there was nothing to see

off the side of the bridge.

Though black cloaked,

I knew these creek banks well

Seen structures strewn

along the banks.

Simple shacks to serve

as homeless shelter.

Could that have been the sound

of some illicit commerce?

Penniless lovers echoing moans

from their concrete suite?

No.

I am certain,

I heard a cry.

A woman's scream

I'm sure.

Nauseating fear

gnashes and gnaws.

Held in place,

I called out to the void.

Fingers crossed,

hoping my cry,

would yield no reply.

But it did.

(Male Voice)

"Everything's fine!"

Fear rushed through my torso,

stripping me of strength.

I know this is a lie

but not how to respond.

So reaching for my cell like a coward

I dialed 911.

The operator was annoyed and unresponsive

I doubt the pigs even bothered to check!

Then some weeks later at the bus stop

I told a friendly rider what I'd heard.

Silently she stood and listened,

then she slayed me with these words:

"Years ago my daughter

young and fair, was taken

to those woods and raped.

You probably weren't mistaken

about that unseen woman's fate."

I heard a cry,

A muffled scream, I'm sure

I should have done more.

Not just walked away.