And the black wings snap
as they meet and then bear down
- against the pressure -

into the winds teeth
and hover for a second
before the next pass over.

An Angel of Death -
face veiled against the night chill
- clad in black and white.

Wheeling, he circles
above the suburban house;
breathing in the grey

that seeps from its walls
and upwards into the sky.
He snorts in disgust.

One more worthless soul
straddling the fence and afraid
to live or to die.