willow moon pearce
A Brooklyn Building.
The old brownstone has stood
For over a century.
Today is its end.
Broken windows stare blindly
As preparations for its demise begin.
This building has the memories of Jewish and Irish
Who come overwhelmed from Ellis Island
Their languages and smells of ethnic cooking
Tobacco and the smells of food
Stay suspended in the unventilated corridoors.
Noisy, no hot water or electric light
The single dirty toilet in the corridor
But away from the pogroms and sheer terror
It was still a place to call your own, and put a song in your heart.
Outside, the cobbled streets and vegetable carts,
With the cry of the vendors and the countless children
Playing games that have been forgotten
A simple time - a time which has been forgotten.
It will be turned into a glass and steel fishtank,
For overweight keep fitters.
I wish that it could stay,
As it belongs where it is.
willow moon pearce's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (A Brooklyn Building. by willow moon pearce )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Rainer Maria Rilke
(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(9 November 1928 – 4 October 1974)
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Christmas Trees, Robert Frost
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- No Man Is An Island, John Donne
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Death is Nothing at All, Henry Scott Holland
- Angel Feather, The Mowjo