Angel Elegy
You could say they were walking. Under the white sky. Above the black earth. You could say that much. Moving their legs. Her big dog hovering nearby, knowing that something was wrong. She cried. He cried too, but for her. Their feet weren’t touching the ground. He talked, but wasn’t good at it. The air full of fine rain. He was trying clumsily to hold her, getting the rhythm of their steps wrong. You could say: not a perfect walk. Also, her wings got in the way.
How do you hold someone with large, hawkish wings?
Inktober drawing from yesterday - The words was sweep - I made it s-weep.
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