Tuesday, May 29, 2012


House at Dusk, 1935, Edward Hopper

Need to escape from these concrete spaces
this city prison to which I am bound…
flee to the country, and leave no traces--
can’t catch my breath in this high-rise town.

Give me the mountains,  dirt paths beseeching…
no well-groomed parks under vapor lights.
No horns, no sirens, no tires screeching;
I prefer cricket-song on starlit nights.

Some thrive in fast-paced electric lifestyle;
bred for the city life right from the start.
Keep the excitement, I’ve done my trial--
always the country beckons to my heart.

© Ginny Brannan May 2012

Written for The Mag #119.
Image provided by Tess Kincaid, she provides image, we provide story!


  1. smiles...i appreciate this...i live in the moutains now and though i have moved away on occassion i miss them. i am comfortable in the city, each has an allure to me you know...like yin & yang

  2. Nice contrast to Whitman's "give me the street of Manhattan"...

  3. I was a dyed-in-the-wool Manhattanite for years. It's the exurbs for me now. :-)


Thank you for reading my poetry and sharing your thoughts.