Brooklyn Aubade, by Anne Duncan

Early Sunday Morning, by Edward Hopper (USA) 1930

Brooklyn Aubade
 
I have never seen 7th Avenue like this:
from your window,
 
all the bricks bleached orange,
white curtains gone gold.
It’s years past curfew, and I tip-toe still.
 
Whole city’s sleeping, same as you,
but for me
 
the mourning begins: Remember
when I took you to the uptown Whitney?
So you could see how I sit,
 
watching the Hoppers
as if they will wake
 
when everyone turns
quiet, caught in the night
hawk’s stare? A shadow
 
will shrink.
A door will give way.

Anne Duncan

Anne Duncan is a poet from Brooklyn NY currently living in Seattle WA as she pursues her PhD in English from the University of Washington. She holds a BA in creative writing from Johns Hopkins University, and her literary reviews can be found in 32 Poems and Bone Bouquet. She is an amateur visual artist, with a creative and scholarly love for ekphrastic literature.