the Brooklyn sun
blazing, baking
tenement walls,
melting rooftops
to goo,
this, my balcony,
where I read novels
after school, my feet
dangling through bars,
three stories from earth,
-- part of the sky
the rumble of
the L train stirs
periodically, the snore
of a giant
asleep beneath me
no bird song -- simply
the whirs and sirens,
the shouts of dinner
out windows
accompanied by
the gentle sway
of working class clothes
strung from lines --
celebrating liberation
from life's routine.
By Mary E. Lohan
Photograph by John Albok
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