The Feather Boat

I padded across the arched wooden footbridge near the willows. Wedged beneath a weathered bolt on the low railing was a small duck feather, tipped with glossy emerald green. I lifted it carefully with both paws... it was so light I could scarcely feel its weight against my fur. Leaning over the timber edge, I let it slip into the breeze. It dipped twice in the cool air, then touched down cleanly onto the water. The little feather drifted away like an unhurried boat, tracing slow ripples across the reflection of the clouds.