Waiting for the light to turn green
I see familiar men and women with
outstretched paper cups, hand-
written signs on cardboard
I try for a look that conveys compassion
without suggesting I’m going to
roll down my window, open my
purse
But the person ahead of me
gives dollars and smiles
to all the parkway panhandlers
At two different red lights
she leans so enthusiastically
out her car window I am dazzled
by the shining white teeth of her smile
the crinkles in her eyes
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