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.

© Margery Hannah 2022. All Rights Reserved.


  • Margery Hannah

    “A writer writes, aways.” (Larry Donner, Throw Mama from the Train) The musings of Margery Hannah, a multi-genre writer, on an array of subject matter through a literary lens. Every raindrop has a story.

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