in search of her next meal

she pan handles her way through the streets

asking for change

pennies off the ground

nickels, quarters, dimes

pan handling is her life’s domain

she approaches my car

at first glance is my rejection

as she disembarks from my path

i drive away

my consciousness rules me and I surrender

i circle the block

reach inside my car’s console

and become a part of her hunt for treasure

like a scavenger I find 3 quarters

2 dimes and a nickel

i dare not insult her with pennies

as she reaches inside to take what I have given

her nails graze the palm of my hand ever so slightly

“you got any dollars, baby?” “i’m just trying to buy a hotdog.”

 

~ism