Walking a Beat in Old East End Montreal...

It has just turned dark revealing odd rhombus patches of street light on sidewalks in old east end Montreal because of recent home invasions I must walk a beat transferred I was from the mounted police but not old enough to retire odors of the old port stream up my nostrils invisible mists of memories when I was young lovers believed I was on patrol and danger proved a great sensual intoxication now my tread is heavy behind workers returning from tedious jobs pacing I remember my horse's steady quiet plodding from Beaver Lake through green woods to Mount Royal Cemetery then along and down to Fletcher's Field. we'd sometimes approach a couple or two ostensibly picnicking they could not fool Ambrose he'd lower his head so tenderly nudge her beautiful face within a minute seduced she was by him she never even noticed his rider.