Who?

The old-timer in 306 died two days ago

of natural causes somebody said.

Somebody said they carted him off

during the dark, early morning hours

as if it was scheduled to be that way.

He was unknown to me as an "is,"

and unknown to me while carted off as a "was."

At that time of day I'm usually asleep

two floors closer to paradise in 503,

much the same way I sleep through the process

of stars going nova, or after an exhausting acceptance

to the day’s results.

This is where they'll find me, here on the final frontier

with those whose lives are long in the tooth, and

I still have work to do. but––

it’s hard to concentrate, what with all the internal commotion.

epilogue:

I've supplied the space below for up-to-date commentary,

or when time deems it appropriate for closure and condolences.

and don’t be a wisenheimer.