Sun. Feb 1st, 2026

by Margery Hannah

E New York Ave
Opened its arms when the world said no.
The street where I groaned
The loss of mother, walking the avenue in a stupor one
chilly day. It is where a luxury
Condo sheltered our stay. Never mind
The shelter was full of crack heads. The only rocks
I noticed were the granite kitchen
countertops and boulders
In Lincoln Terrace park. E New York Ave, Brooklyn
Home to my three and me. We
Will part ways. E New York Ave is temporary
Harlem calls my name.
Midtown inhabits my dreams.
The upper east side boasts all I can be.
But, Brooklyn, you are (I thought) real. I love
You, (I thought) baby. E New York Ave
Home to God’s people
The Jehovah’s Witness
The West Indian Christian
The Hasidic Jew, master of black attire
Madam of wig. You are
Loud in the summer
Just right in fall
Winter brings little notion
Spring joy enthralls
E New York Ave.
Sutter Avenue Train Station Stained Glass
The author during her time in the median.

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By Margery Hannah

Margery Hannah is a multi-genre writer and the founder and publisher of the online magazine, THE LITERARY PURVEYOR. Every raindrop has a story.

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