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