PATRICIA DOBROSIPEARSON Poems

Iron gates that creek and moan,
Lock one in, Shut one out.
Iron gates that stand alone,
Bars two in, Bars two out.
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I found your hand in my pocket again
My friend,
I thought I'd give it back.
It doesn't belong to me
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kissed by her tears
held by her breath
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August 2013, after 1984 we came to realize that a foolish nation could leave itself depleted of resources, so the government worked to procure resources throughout the continent and attaining the New World Order.
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I can hear the echo of your paws clammering against the concrete.
The bell rings but I cannot see any children recess.
Then you chase the squirrel up the tree.
You are definitely a hunting dog.
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And she read to the saints
and spoke to her lord
and played her instruments
and sang in chord
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Firminting in my oak barrel
drunk by drunks and connoisseurs
only made by special brewers
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A POETRY RIDDLE

Tied To Nancy
Drown by a broken woman
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Conrad Buchanan
Conrad
She is coming down. You can not stop her.
She cries for the city to make way for the falling.
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A True Test of Heart
An Angel from above screamed to those below
'Make way, make way for the falling.'
It is a long way down.
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