I came across this in an anthology which may provide an answer.
A very strange thing indeed - poem by B. Michael James
It was a very strange thing indeed.
I became aware of the silence.
The comforting murmur
Of the central heating boiler had ceased.
So I sat there
On the loo, in the quiet.
It was a very strange thing indeed.
It wasn't loneliness I felt
I was not facing another day on my own:
Soon, I would be seeing my friend.
A very strange thing indeed.
This silence.
I have no idea what it meant.
This not unpleasant quietness.
Could death be like that?
Taversing an unknown nothingness
To a new awakening.
It was a very strange thing indeed.