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The woman who panhandles

at Northern Parkway and Cold Spring Lane

has a beagle.  

One night I was stopped at the light.

I watched them across the intersection.

The woman slapped her hands on her thighs

and spoke to the dog animatedly,

probably describing how sweet it was.

The dog, wrapped in a Christmas blanket,

sat quietly, looking up at her,

its brown eyes full

of love

love

love