The Last Brownstone

The Bronx of my childhood was Italian and had the flavor of the old country. The neighborhood was always kept clean by old Italian ladies who swept the street where they lived. It saddens me to see it destroyed by drugs, fire and people who just don't care. I guess nothing stays the same; change is the way of life. I still have great memories of it from my childhood and often draw on it for my paintings. This lone Brownstone is the last holdout of that magic time. Now it just lives in my mind, the Bronx of old.