He died as he must have lived
Curled up on the foot­path quietly
While cars and people passed by
Spar­ing only vague pity­ing glances
But def­in­itely no small change.

He’s peace­ful — you’d think him
Asleep if it wer­en’t for the blood
On his temples and the two uniforms
Stand­ing guard over him as they
Never would in life.

They don’t look at him really —
She swings her hands back and forth
Or plays with her pony­tail while
He mon­it­ors each car carefully
As it drives onto the street.

It’s peace­ful — no sirens yet
The ambu­lance too late or absent altogether
The sun shin­ing, the sky blue,
The paper­work and the postmortem
Days away, the ill-atten­ded funeral
Still to come.