I was there for only a fraction of her grief.
I only softened her hunger pains slightly.
I only shared her burden lightly, by listening
to her mumbling anguish.

One dollar sandwich,
one good ear,
one cellphone call,
to make it clear
that I cared.

I let her vent her pain incoherently.
I listened carefully,
watched her eyes swell with tears.
Swollen cheeks and wrinkled face
looking for an inkling of hope,
but I could not offer that hope.
In that place I could only spare a little grace.
Till, she slipped out the booth
hustling to the door to disappear
into the world that was hurting her
with a pound or two less
of stress and pain.