When my friend died that night,
In the room next to mine,
Did I hear his death rattle?
Did my subconscious mind,
While I lay sleeping, dreaming
Record some small part of
His short life ending?
Did his soul,
On its way to wherever
It was going, stop by,
Give me a jaunty wave
As it faded out the window?
Or did my soul sleep
Peacefully, all that night,
Unaware of the transformation?