I wasn't giving her money, and she wasn't using it for drugs

she stood by the abandoned storefront
where Big Fun once dispensed crass and hilarious items
holding her own against the wind, it seemed
while there was no wind to speak of

as I plodded the crosswalk with my cane
she caught my eye
when I arrived on her side
she asked if I had any change
she was hungry

I fished in my wallet
full of bills earmarked for poetry books
handed her a $1 bill
she thanked me sweetly
and I proceeded to Mac's for the reading

as it was, I did not buy any of the reader's books
left early in a hurry, in between open mic poets

when I got to the crosswalk, she was still standing there
I looked at her, smiled, and she frowned
"where's your cane?", she asked

I opened my mouth
uttered a profuse "thank you"
and trundled back to Mac's
through the shop and down the stairs
to the water pipe I had left my cane by

seeing her one last time on my way to my car
she asked if I could give her just two more dollars
she wanted to get a sandwich from Tommy's
I was glad she asked, because I didn't want to hand it to her
unsolicited, as if it were a tip, though that is what
I had planned it to be

"try Jimmy John's", I told her
"you'll get more to eat for less"
she took the two dollars and disappeared into the evening crowd

the whole time
I was embarrassed to tell her, the cane is somewhat only for show
her concern overshadowed by an awe
that some miracle had corrected my walking