The sky cracked open with feathers and dust,
a shadow stitched itself across the fields.

Mother goose,
ancient and wild-eyed,
sailed past the rooftops,
trailing old songs and forgotten names.

Childeren dropped their marbles,
dogs forgot to bark,
even the clocks leaned forward to listen.

She did not stop,
did not wave,
only rode the trembling air
as if time itself had loosened its hold.

And long after she vanished,
a single feather spun down,
settling on the road,
soft as a secret
no one could quite remember.