Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Cold Case

He opened the bottom drawer
Of his desk and pulled out
The folder, the next one
He needed to work.
His mind veered,
Putting it off, this work
Meant little to him now.

One foot in front of the other
And none meaning a damned
Thing.  The Captain wouldn’t
See it that way, of course.
He could pull the plug, retire
But then what?  He opened it
And looked inside.  A fresh

Faced girl looked back,
Missing now for several
Months – not much he could
Do after all this time.
She’d gone off of her own
Accord the witnesses said.
Nothing done against her will,

Whatever it was.  “She was
So lucid just a short time
Before.”  He looked back
At the drawer: several more
Folders awaited.
Would there be time
To close them all?

What should he do with
This one?  “Close it out,”
His Captain would say, as
If he could – the Captain
Sitting behind his granite-
Topped desk out of touch
With everyone here.

He set the photo aside
And read “no sign of
Foul play, just one accident
After the other, medical
Mystery, inept bureaucracies,
Life and death in
The modern world.

He closed the file and
Put it in the “cold case”
Tray.  Nothing more he
Could do – maybe in a hundred
Years.  He reached down and
Took another: “man climbing
His stairs, fell to the ground,

Ambulance on the way.”
He looked out his window
At the breaking day – “cold
Again, should stay that way
A long time.”  He put the
Folder in the “Pending” tray
And closed the drawer.

Outside he turned his
Collar up and pulled his hat
Down over his eyes.  “There
Is nothing to see here folks.
Move along.”  His eyes
followed their steps, one
After the other.

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