Nowan stopped when we reached the river bank and, letting go of my hand, parted the reeds so very carefully.
I saw it, then,
white and slender,
a bird made of light.
It walked in the water on its long, slim legs, perfectly balanced,
as if dancing to a music it could only hear.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.
From Requiem for a King by Carmen Ferreiro-Esteban
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