As I wrote it some number of computers ago, and on a computer, that thread is probably the only place it remains. The nature of the net is such it may never have permanence (I suppose I could print it out, and add to my other poetry, but it seems unlikely).
It's not a very polished work, but here it is. A little thing, but it is mine.
In broken meter
Ave atque vale, Frater
If not for this man, then the next
I didn't know him, save through friends
Whose grief alone our measure makes
I feel as though I'm oil on water
Brilliant, shining, fading, gone
Too soon will I be dead and done
Too few will know I ever was
Too many will (I hope) be saddened
To see me go, as he has gone.