Encounter Swans
By the lake, a wooden staircase stood out. It was a simple viewing platform. Something stirred on the water’s surface.
From above, through bare shrubs, I glimpsed white specks floating swans. Their feathers gleamed, long necks curved, reflections clear in still water. Some pecked at the surface, others preened, and a few drifted alone.
Further off, two swan flocks converged, forming a silver line across the sky. Wings shimmered in sunlight, cutting through air, sweeping over those gliding below.
“Look!” I saw them descend, wings silent, splashing into the lake, echoing through the quiet.
still water flows,
feathered wings brush the sky—
quiet descends.
