PAD 7: Urban Rural

Today’s prompt is Urban (Blank).

Living in New York City, one would think this would be a breeze. There’s urban all around me, but no. I’ve been sitting at the computer today for hours, mulling over this prompt. My mind was going in many different directions, but I could not get traction with any of them. So, when my husband came into the room, I said, “Let’s play a word game.” It’s one you all know, I’m sure. I said one word, and he said the word that popped into his mind after that. “Urban,” I said. “Rural,” he said. And so the title of the poem was made. Here’s what came after.

Urban Rural


Amidst the pothole ridden streets

And cracked sidewalks

Amidst the hustle bustle

And city that never sleeps

Amidst the throngs of tourists

And relentless natives

Amidst museums and restaurants,

Office towers and hotels,

Pubs and private clubs,

Six-story walk ups

And doorman-ed high rises,

Beat cops and senators,

Fashion models and street peddlers,

Amidst all this there lies

A public, yet private, oasis

Where all can go to re-commune

With Mother Nature

And find oneself when

One gets lost in the traffic

Of modern urban life.


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