For Ruby

I signed her virtual guest book

at the bottom of her obituary,

and I wish I had searched

for her weeks prior.

A text box persona;

she found me on my blog.

The Pacific Northwest

had saturated both our skins

until we were weighed down

by overcast skies and traffic jam tongues.

Our troubles puddled around our feet,

and she dreamt once

she drowned in the sky 

and her pain sent her falling

For days into her bed.

I learned how to ring out my depression,

but Ruby had to learn how to fly.

I should have looked for her sooner

and shared my umbrella with her.

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