If winds could catch

Standing at the gas pump
i saw prices of hours
a small framed girl
gas station clerk

wore a hard life's face
dressed
in a thin green
unzipped hoodie

faded bluejeans
draped
with long black trash bags
over both shoulders

fought against
frigid nights
billowing breeze
to change the grey garbage cans

in that moment
i saw
Death
in all it's glory

basking
in the touch
that makes so many
tremble

they so easily deliver
release
relief

cloak
black as night
if the lights had gone out
mighty
as murderers
above the sleeping  victims
voiceless

and her robes
in the currents
being caught

realizing
the only thing that could catch her
is the wind

wishing
i could be anything
i'd be the wind
so someone could catch death
at least once
to show them up

no one is infallible