Classic Poem

Scared dogs looking backwards with patient eyes;
at windows stooping old women, wrapped in shawls;
old men, wrinkled as knuckles, on the stoops.

A bitch, backbone and ribs showing in the sinuous back,
sniffed for food, her swollen udder nearly rubbing along the pavement.

Once a toothless woman opened her door,
chewing a slice of bacon that hung from her mouth like a tongue.

This is where I walked night after night;
this is where I walked away many years.