He went to the water to die

after hanging out on a rock

for weeks; getting sicker,

and sicker, until, one day,

I found him floating in the water.

His death didn’t affect me

on the day that it happened.

It had affected me six weeks

earlier when I first realized

that he was probably going to

die. I had to live with it all that

time. His actually demise was

sort of an after the fact occasion.

I was almost relieved to not have

to look at him, anymore, no longer

have to watch him die.