We christened her uphill walker,
a stranger slight and determined
who, angling her body for struggle,
pushed forward on the level streets,
as if all inclined
up and away from her.
She had one, or two, leashed shih-tzus
trotting lion-like before her.
She wore heavy clothes,
a parka in late spring,
or a sweater in July,
carried a full backpack.
Her feet seemed tied to earth - she trudged.
I saw her years later,
2 days ago
in the goodwill store,
filling a cart
with the softest, cleanest,
oversized, stuffed animals
-rabbits bears dogs -
of unknown origin and breed.
Her face was older, weathered.
A man was with her, same ash hair and indistinct eyes,
a companion
that never questioned
the animal horde growing in her basket.
I looked into their eyes,
both of them, at separate times -
blunted, closed.
Another cart held bulging backpacks, shopping bags.
Did I imagine one, or two, leashes
hanging limply there?
