The Poetry Marathon

HOUR 24       Rhythm of Life                                        Mary Pecaut

Go and come

Ships cross the Panama Canal 

steady as waves lapping the shore.

Brown pelicans dive and dip

scooping up fish

schools of which 

come and go.

Hour 23   Too Loud a Solitude    Mary Pecaut

Too Loud a Solitude              

(Title After book by Bohumil Hrabal)

In the moonlight 

on my balcony

I close my eyes 

I never told you

Hour 22   Great Flood of 2011                         Mary Pecaut

Inspired by Unattributed Photo

Great Flood of 2011 

Some things we cannot know.

Some know.  Some think they know.

Some things are better unknown.

Mid-afternoon, under a summer sky 

where three states shake hands

under the watchful eye of Chief War Eagle

miles from the Muddy Missouri’s banks,

you pull off the highway

to investigate flooded fields of maize.

Snowmelt in the northern Rockies

& rain – a year’s worth in three weeks-

swallow its way across the Plains

engorge reservoirs and dams

Here we stand, gone a decade 

Sand bagging & prayers were not enough.

Baseball fields along Nebraska banks

abandoned – soil too toxic for children to play ball.

Once-tree lined bike paths from South Dakota 

to Iowa reminiscent of an apocalyptic film

This is what it’s like to lose it all

Hour Twenty One             Parapluie             Mary Pecaut

Parapluie

No matter if it rains

No matter if it shines

If you’ve got an umbrella

You will be just fine.

Hour Twenty       Books For Beginners                 Mary Pecaut

How to Be A…

How to Free A…

How to Make

How to Escape

How to Live Like..

How to Give like…

How to Grow

How to Let Go

How to take a Breath

How to Cope with Death

How to Learn

How to Unlearn

Hour 19 

Casco Viejo, Panama City                     Mary Pecaut

Today I walk on cobbled streets, pass

facades – window frames frame

frangipanis, doorways speak of pirates past 

missionaries and colonizers.

I might be a sympathizer

so in love with history am I.  What might

be lost and what’s the cost

as we gentrify?

What of Luis, un-homed in the open air

behind Plaza Herrera square- this casco

where he studied and grew,

his childhood home – a five star condo-

left to panhandle for a brew.

The bell from Iglesia de la Merced

tolls telling a time when the church 

was rebuilt stone by stone. A time

when pirates burned the city down.

A time when Jesuits, homeless on the beach

rose and built La Campania de Jesus –

a convent to convert. Luis tells me he is Catholic.

We are all looking to save and be saved.

Hour 18   Moment of Joy    Mary Pecaut

Our Rooftop Garden in Panama at Sunrise

Colibri comes to greet

me. The hum of OM.

Her wings bat infinity.

And I say, thank you, 

more, please.

Hour 17          Apartment Living     Mary Pecaut

My disgruntled neighbor lives under 

the stairs. He might as well be 

a basilisk ready to kill 

with a single glare.

Or maybe he’s a sea serpent

eager for war

his scaly-skin like a kraken

from maritime lore.

I want to be a friendly tenant

and figure we should meet.

So, I bring him a plate of papayas

Not knowing what a monster might eat.

Hour 16    Forced Childbirth   Mary Pecaut

Forced Childbirth

Fifty years of precedent

tossed to the wind    women

left to the whim

of the states. 

Not legal history no.

Fundamental constitutional 

rights denied. A woman’s body

now the courts decide.

Oh, for ease, Alito please

leave us alone with our ovaries.

What has changed today?

Hour Fifteen  –   Clarity      Mary Pecaut

Inspired by

Photo by Filipp Romanovski on Unsplash

Clarity

Late autumn leaves thin

as lace reveal what might

otherwise be concealed.

Veins branching and rebranching

like city roads carry loads

of water and sugar navigating

xylem and phloem cells.

The leaf is able to be leaf.

Fully itself.

The hummingbird is content 

as itself.

The path is the path

in conversation with its surroundings.

Who are you?