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 only he could hear.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.
From Requiem for a King by Carmen Ferreiro-Esteban