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Between the Fires
In February that year a man entered the wilderness,
drifted down a river forty days and forty nights.
He emerged to a world utterly transformed.
On everyone’s lips, the virus.
“But what about the fires in Australia?” he asks.
Old news, yesterday’s sorrow.
Siberia burns in silence.
~
Golden Gate Redux
The 10th Street Bridge in Pittsburgh
looks uncannily like San Francisco’s Golden Gate
in yellow miniature.
The architect built it as a trial run
for the larger, more famous structure.
I walk under it daily on my way to the parking lot,
returning to my car after work.
Who wouldn’t like to imagine a larger version
of their life out there somewhere,
with this one as a dress rehearsal?
I’ve only been once to San Francisco,
on a road trip west when I was eighteen.
When the guy from the percussion band
playing in Golden Gate park
pulled me from the crowd to dance,
my friend Barb got jealous.
It’s true Barb was the better dancer,
but I was a more expressive listener.
After the design in Pittsburgh proved workable,
they built the magnificent Golden Gate,
lure for suicides and photographers.
To my knowledge no one
has jumped to their death from 10th Street.
Rust pocks the yellow towers.
In the evening the shortened spans fill with birds.
I watch them shift and settle
from my car in the parking lot below.

Copyright 2025 Roberta Hatcher
Roberta Hatcher is the author of French Lessons. She lives in Pittsburgh.
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Striking clarity in these two lovely poems.
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Oh yes, Roberta’s work is brilliant.
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“Old news, yesterday’s sorrow.” Thank you for introducing me to Roberta Hatcher’s poetry!
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Roberta is great.
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Wow, yes, a dress rehearsal indeed. Preparation for meeting the beloved, what in Sufism is called our “wedding day”
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I love that expression. Thank you, Moudi
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Okay. Now I’ve read 4 of Roberta’s poems.They are amazing. They ask to be read over and over. My-oh-my, she’s good. Thank you Michael for introducing us to Roberta.
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2+3+5. Yes, five poems…sorry.
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So glad you like her work, HC.
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I love Roberta’s poems. Between the Fires is so evocative, carries loss in only a few short lines. I love the fact that Pittsburgh has so many bridges. The Tenth Street Bridge is one of my favorites. Roberta writes a love letter to it.
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It’s always such an exiting moment to “discover” a poet. I’m disappointed I didn’t know of Roberta Hatcher — but so happy I can now discover more of her poems in her French Lessons— thank you, Michael!
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Thanks, Laure-Anne. Roberta is a Pittsburgh poet I’ve admired for years. So glad I was able to introduce her work to you.
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She sheds light, does Roberta Hatcher. I read everything after I read first things, such wonderfully realized poetry here. There is no mistaking the bridge and connections to the founder of this site— maybe Pittsburgh will come to be known as the “Cradle of Poetic Civilization.” The case is beginning to stand the test of time and place and personnel. After all Rick Campbell is from there…
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I agree, Sean. The poetry community in Pittsburgh is one of the reasons Eva and I moved here from Texas in 1987.
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