Flight Feather

The glassy top of a quiet lake grows wings as the fowl land upon it.

The disruption makes waves that lap to the shore fraying its once still edges. The sudden sounds crack the quiet facade. Some modest, some taunting and shrill.

The surface breached by ravenous beaks and bills. Below, the chaos is churned by the need for survival.

The fish, like pieces of the lake, who believed they would always be there.

In a raucous mounting the birds have gone, reinstating the serenity as if untouched,  save one pristine feather upon the lakes face floating gracefully.

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