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.