In the waking morning
with the bleary sun unslumbering slowly,
the river rushes on,
like a commuter late for the train,
dappling the doppelganger reflections
with its speed.
From high vantage,
the cathedral servant of God
sees, on the dashing surface,
the parable of its mirrored copy.
The story it tells is incomplete
missing colour and definition
in the watery haste.