gently into that good night

From what we can tell he stopped along the railroad tracks on the way to the shelter sometime yesterday. Perhaps he was tired. Maybe it was too early for him to check in. Either way he stopped near the tracks, a slight incline, perhaps it was the warm sun.

He removed his jacket and folded it neatly under his head. He took off his shoes. Naps are always more comfortable without shoes. He took off his shoes and placed them close. Perhaps thinking if someone tried to lift them he'd wake up and notice. Either way he tucked them near.

He laid his head down on his jacket and went to sleep. He was found by one of our staff this morning during the neighborhood sweep. For a minute he thought he was sleeping but up close it was different, a days worth of difference at least.

Sometime between yesterday morning and the day before he died. No one knows why but hard living and sleeping outside takes it's toll. He looked peaceful, his eyes were closed. His head was still cradled by his jacket. A faint smile perhaps but that may just be wistful thinking and the hope for a gentle goodbye

And no one had tried to lift his shoes. Neatly tucked next to his side, his shoes were still there.

Rest in peace, brother. May you forever have soft pillows beneath your head.