Chance Encounter

Hello, she has certainly changed.
Pity how some people just 
let themselves go like that.
Puffy-looking, sallow skin, dank hair.
Not the woman last seen some
while ago, though a mutual
acquaintance had informed, in
passing, their dog had died. But
here's a puppy, a rollicking, sweet
curious little fellow, a real
floppy, silken-haired heart-stealer
and I lean toward her to commend
their superb formula for mending
a broken heart. She asks after our
grandchild, speaks quietly of her
own. We turn to regard the antics
of that powerful hairy little mite
and beam pleasure toward one
another. Casual is our acquaintance
but it does not preclude a parting
hug whose fervour surprises. And
it is only later I learn to my shamed
anguish that those good souls have
recently buried their only son.