A Resting Shadow

I walked down from the high rooftop and slipped into the nearby park. A fallen pigeon feather lay caught between two slats of a wooden bench, trembling as footsteps passed in the distance. I stepped onto the coarse cedar plank, bracing my boots beside a scattered acorn cap. Leaning down, I worked the pale gray quill loose from the split grain and laid it flat across the bench out of the breeze. A tiny sparrow landed briefly on the opposite armrest, tilted its head, and took flight. I sat beside the smoothed wood, letting the quiet afternoon settle around me.