Before there were buildings to block the sun before trains clacked below your feet there was an almost island
She lived by a great salt meadow, surrounded by a creek Her shores awash with rocks and great oyster reefs
Because the water would come and go, it was just an almost island A fingertip on the western shores of Long Island
Woooshhhh Woooshhhh Woooshhhh Can you smell the salty sea air and feel the tall grasses? The birds and blue crabs the herons and sea basses?
For many years the Lenape people fished the shores and cared for the land They lived in peace hand in hand
When seafarers from the west arrived the almost island was taken away She sighed and sighed as new “settlers� made way
Now there were boats and sea captains, fishing and farmlands She could hear them call to her, oh Dominie’s Hook!
And so the almost island was passed down through the years From Peter Praa to Jacob Bennett, to his daughter Anna who married a great sea captain
His name was George Hunter and they had 8 children They cared for the land with cows and gardens, chickens and fences
To the west the almost island could see a new city rising with smoke stacks and large ships More people and train tracks
Now the almost island was surrounded It’s hills flattened and rocks collected Oysters plucked, no longer protected
It fell deeper and deeper into the sea, Attached to the land, by white men in high fashions There were ferries and docks, more train tracks and tunnels Factories with smokestacks and buildings with large funnels
One factory was one made of sugar For pies and cakes, for treats and canoe trips And another for oil that sometimes spilled into the creek
Soon it was hard to breathe, and too loud to think The trains went underground as new bridges stretched across the sea
Before long the once almost island was forgotten as a forest grew in lands now freed with bugs and squirrels, mulberry and knotweed
And so the almost island was happy again She could smell the salt air, and feel the tall grasses The birds and blue crabs. The herons and sea basses
But on the horizon she could sense a new tug and pull of luxury homes and bellies overly full
If you listen closely you can hear her whisper: Oh my darlings won’t you let me be? The almost island off the coast of Manhattan
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