by Renée R.

It’s that hour again.
Lunchtime in Shanghai, Bedtime in Harbourview Hospital…
Time to collect and recollect…
Memories, stories, the people we were, thought we were –
They flew out of you like a filibuster against death, against time.

Since you closed your eyes forever, went to a better place, passed away, met your maker, went to heaven, returned to the earth… and your favorite — kicked the bucket – I hear you more than ever before.

The last time I saw you (on my computer screen)
your gaze had dimmed,
a hungry snake intent on being.
You died with the verve that you lived: performing 100 yottaFLOPS until the end.
The bucket is probably orbiting an undiscovered Sun by now.