in passing

what brings
them here, this boxed truck
with red lights
spinning,
the sirens off now,
no need for that
anymore.
who is under the white
sheet,
tied snug around the cart.
not even a boot,
or hand shows.
a neighbor?
someone you knew,
someone
you've seen and said
hello to, in passing,
but no more. your
measure of grief,
is unknown.