A Great Passes (On) in the Night

Kurt Vonnegut died last night in Manhattan. He hadn't been doing well of late since a fall which did some damage to his head/brain. He wasn't stolen from us in the bud of his youth as in spite of smoking almost steady for decades, he made it to eighty-four years of age.

His last book, in 2005, was a collection of biographical essays, "A Man Without a Country." It concludes with a poem written by Mr. Vonnegut called "Requiem," which has these closing lines:

When the last living thing

  has died on account of us,

how poetical it would be

if Earth could say,

in a voice floating up

perhaps

from the floor

of the Grand Canyon,

"It is done."

People did not like it here.

I think between now and my time to go, would be a good time to read again some or all of Mr. Vonnegut's wonderful books. His was a unique and wonderful voice and perspective on our world. Rest in Peace Mr. Vonnegut, and thanks for the writing.

...so it goes!