Composed Near A Deserted Pond Poem by Pierre Lien

All around the pond nature seems
dead. The murky surface of the
water, like a rusted copper mirror,
covers the fish that linger like corpses,
next to untrimmed branches and uninhabited
spider-webs. Against the pond lies a
wall of limited cascade which, like a
leaking tap, drools down the pond.

No one cares about this scenery. The
sunken bricks and mossed rocks live
tiredly on the seabed - or do they
die and rot, waiting for the fish
to consume their remains.

When no one else was watching once,
a generous beam of sunlight welcomed itself
to the water, hitting the cascade with such intensity
that twinkles danced across the waterfall.
The fish were living, and not kept alive:
They do not need us humans to survive.

This scenery cares about no one.
The mossed floor's a natural barrier,
a roadblock that prevents intrusion.
For now still the living pond
is dead to us, but nature continues.