krutarth

The Dawn\'s Spell

On the placid river,

a boat;

of tattered tin, 

leaves swirls of water brewing;

gently within.

 

the creaking of;

the rusty hull,

and the faint murmur,

of the water;

murky and dull.

 

the robin;

and its daybreak monotone,

obscure the sodden;

iron-grey waters,

the frightening face,

of the river not yet;

caressed by sun\'s embrace.