Scrub Pine

A couple of miles from where I type,
heading east along the south shore of Long Island,
you’ll see blue canvas sitting atop aluminum poles
bringing to mind a family picnic or perhaps just a place
to sit shaded from the sun.

There are six structures in all, covering six bodies --
six dead bodies of young women dumped into the scrub pine,
there, discarded bottles, fishing line, a gull feather
all decorate a final viewing.

All but one has been identified, and claimed
by those that have no answers.

The approach to JFK runs along that corridor --
jets fly in above, with precision and contrails
as detectives, look down for clues,

Somewhere someone looks out a window,
looking for who might be next to join the bounty --
perhaps he’s well known in the community, one of those
‘I never would have thought’ fellas,
but there has not been an arrest photo yet
and maybe never will, the case becoming as cold
as those that felt life slip away.

The collection continues; earrings, wallets, cell phones
are found, swabs taken as the mascara runs like tears
on blue faces.

Soon, the beaches will fill with families and gull squawks
long after the cleanup of six dead women, remain unsolved.

Edward Rochester Esq.