Pat Bordner Poems

Leisurely, I enter dad's repair room.
Placing me in the hands of time.
Antique clocks of many styles.
Springs, gears, and parts about. Clocks bold that go bong, bong.
...

Peaceful radiance of a beautiful morn.
The giantress stands on her tiny island,
over looking New York Harbor.
Carrying a torch for friendship, freedom, and hope.
...

Crisp winter wind tugging at my coat,
slowly numbing my face.
The sun shinning across the skating rink,
surrounded by banks of snow.
...