Iron gates that creek and moan,
Lock one in, Shut one out.
Iron gates that stand alone,
Bars two in, Bars two out.
Cannot climb the sharpened points,
Three lay in, Three lay out.
Have to squeeze in between,
Four limbs in, Four limbs out.
Wrestle with the strength in holds,
Five push in, Five push out.
Finally one can see beyond,
Six times in, Six times out.
Wrought the iron, weakens with age,
Seven years in, Seven years out.
Haven't closed the iron gates,
Eight them all, Eight them all.
PATRICIA DOBROSIPEARSON's Other Poems
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