The women are beautiful in my neighbourhood
Their hair shines and their skin is soft
Their hips are tight with legs gone mad
Pushing strollers filled with their first born
Or they are out walking their dogs
Or they are together with friends;
Quite often though, they are alone,
Carrying a single bag of groceries
Their men strangely absent
Often they smile at me
As they walk by my store
And as I sit in the window, forlorn
Watching the world go by
I can’t help but wonder…
Who loves these women?