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.