For a Feather, Floating Softly Upon

April 16th, 2026

The white is blinding, nearly startlesome
Unnatural, like a canvas lacking paint.
Beneath a delicate form, water streams
Its gentle current like a window pane.

Revealing hidden microcosms here:
A minnow darts to safety, disappears.
I wonder from whence you came, floating clear?
From living body, partial corpse drifts near

Like glass the feather holds my gaze to pause
So noting these, now it (and I) move on.