of how he felt dying
I saw a river in the Canadian north
with rapids and calm stretches
completely surrounded by wilderness
while he painted he told me
he gave up on art when the cancer took
hold of his wife
he told me now of his aloneness.
yet somehow he was here, with a quivering voice
and a tear in his eye
delivering his message to untutored youth
when finished, I saw the darkness release him
and he smiled
sitting in his canoe without fear of the inevitable
Colin and Co.
