One Of Us Poem by Arthur Weil

Frigid, almost frozen, the stiff lay there
Ashen skin
Dead
In the alley behind the trash
Disheveled, dirty, the smell of urine
Grayish disheveled hair
Someone had stolen his shoes
An absent, cold, egotistical world
Police - ambulance
All far too late

Suicide? Homicide? Inclement weather?
Too short the investigation…
He was a veteran
So many of our homeless are
Heroes sometime, somewhere
A father, a husband, a scholar
Who knows?
An addict dug into a black hole
Of drugs
A nobody
Or maybe, just maybe
One of us