I Died on the Dock
by Stephen Grant
Art: Claire Lawrence - “Bleeding Light”
on a clear, languid afternoon.
I had already seen a loon, a sneaky water snake,
and a large grey heron, all seeking nourishment,
but not from me. They knew I had none to give.
The river otter wasn’t lurking for a change; and
a scary dock spider skittered nearby. They gave
brief incidence to my vanquished heart while the
sun scalded my eyes crimson, like the loon’s.
Having lost you in the ambient light, I had only
a blank canvas on which to dribble my newly
thinned paint and varnish it into gloss, never
to see it regain depth or purchase. I died that
afternoon on the dock of the bay, as the water
arched and mirrored the cerulean sky, as a billion
diamond glints speckled like love possessed, when
nothing ever went awry and all roads led to you.
Stephen Grant is a Toronto writer and poet, recently emerged from a professional career and now
published in several literary journals. He favors Maine Coon cats.