Who?

The old-timer in 306 died two days ago

of natural causes 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"

but at that time of morning 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.

It serves to warn me that 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 plenty of 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.