The Hamilton Avenue exit in Brooklyn
is a sign I am close to my sister’s house.
D’Amico’s coffee lingers in the air
and hip young Brooklynites walk
all manner of dogs.
There’s my favorite dress shop, Lily’s, on Court Street.
The church spire rising at the corner of Hoyt and Sackett
means I am moments from hugging family.
Neighbors on stoops raise a hand or call hello.
The broad, flat leaves of a graceful tree
in front of my sister’s stately brownstone
as I climb the wide stone steps.
This visit could be happening today,
ten years ago or tomorrow.
There is something comforting about
a home away from home
filled with family and
comes from the kitchen as
feet pound down the sweeping
dark wood staircase.
A deep breath in,
A deep breath out.