Like a huge, half-dried tear
Sat in autumn’s tired lap,
A sad, wet question,
A muddy saucer swilling
The backwash of neglect,
All life has withered from this pond
And all it’s left is a gentle trace,
The paw prints of scuttling rats,
Frog bellies and curious badgers,
A glint of orange fox hair
And a single heron feather.
As dying ferns drop
Their tears of dew into the mire,
A parade of ghostly sparrows
Arrive and then leave,
The rain waves in grey,
The wind almost mourns,
The demure grimace of a cat
Hovers on a distant fallen wall,
And I back step out of a thought
Before a memory’s reborn.
About the Poet
Dunstan Carter is a poet and illustrator based in Manchester, England. His work has appeared in Penumbra magazine, Buzzin Bards, The Errorist, Remington Review, and in Macmillan Education’s recent ‘Inspired English 2’ anthology. He’s currently finishing work on a debut collection of fifty poems called ‘Oscillating Moths’.
For the first time in nearly five years, Vita Brevis is closed for submission. Read the full story here.
Vita Brevis Press. 
Gorgeous!
What a wonderful opening to this poem.
Like a huge, half-dried tear
Sat in autumn’s tired lap,
A sad, wet question,
“Like a huge, half-dried tear
Sat in autumn’s tired lap”
I love this line. It is evocative and haunting and, while the feel of this piece reaches out in longing, it is also eloquent.