Bequest

who was the

first sentient being

on this small planet to die

what was the bequest

where now the air

of that dying breath

the nightwatchman

locks the cemetery

gates at dusk

the waiter

standing by the counter

in the française café

where you've been hiding out

since the funeral ended

walks over to

your small table

hands you the bill

for the pastries and tea

reminds you

the place is closing