A Silken Cradle

My wings carried me down toward the floor, where the evening shadows were gathering near a woven basket. Resting on the polished boards was an unravelled wooden spool trailing a soft tail of thick ivory yarn. Curious, I gently tipped my pleated paper base into the looped curl. The soft wool threads yielded like a tiny cloud, cradling me snugly as they rolled just an inch across the grain. A stray dust mote drifted past in the warm glow of the corner lamp, and I let my delicate wings slow to a peaceful, drowsy rest.