A daybreak ramble to the river;
Conkers shimmer underfoot,
Golden leaves cling to concrete,
Damp from the dewy dawn air.
The autumnal sky is ash grey,
Like a lingering cloud of smoke.
Ducks slice through layers of leaves,
Foraging for food in the chilly air.
The water’s brown and murky,
From mud churned up by rowers,
Whose loud voices resonate upstream,
And disturb the serenity of sunrise.