At the River
A silent empty sky
is spreading
over silent streets.
And at the river's banks nearby,
some ice is forming into brilliant sheets.
A flock of raven circle in the air,
to form a colony with cheerful sound.
And ducks follow each other pair by pair,
to look for food at river's hidden ground.
From far another noise comes to my ear,
so often heard when I was small,
A train engine's whistle lound and clear.
Gray smoke is growing from its chimney tall.
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