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      <title>My Poetry by Mary Myers</title>
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      <description>Pick a shelf and read.</description>
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      <pubDate>2023-07-04 15:39:47 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title></title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
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         <description><![CDATA[<div>Gazing at Flowers (2016, December)</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2023-07-04 15:57:18 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title>The Importance of Titles</title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/mpmyers4az/ygghts5j9g036nox/wish/2638086601</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>(2017, January)</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2023-07-04 15:59:32 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title></title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/mpmyers4az/ygghts5j9g036nox/wish/2638088355</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>An Odd Number of Role Models (2016, March)</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2023-07-04 16:04:44 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title></title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/mpmyers4az/ygghts5j9g036nox/wish/2638089012</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Measure Twice (2016, April)</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2023-07-04 16:06:44 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title></title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/mpmyers4az/ygghts5j9g036nox/wish/2638104177</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Dog-eared Journal (2016, December)</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2023-07-04 16:48:52 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title></title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/mpmyers4az/ygghts5j9g036nox/wish/2638104523</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Childhood Games (2017, March)</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2023-07-04 16:49:53 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title>Just Another Beech</title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/mpmyers4az/ygghts5j9g036nox/wish/2638108924</link>
         <description><![CDATA[]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2023-07-04 17:01:36 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title></title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/mpmyers4az/ygghts5j9g036nox/wish/2638110110</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>A Slap of the Windmill (2018, March)</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2023-07-04 17:05:21 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title></title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/mpmyers4az/ygghts5j9g036nox/wish/2638110606</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Wheat Pennies (2017, December)</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2023-07-04 17:06:52 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title></title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/mpmyers4az/ygghts5j9g036nox/wish/2638729341</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><a href="http://www.haibuntoday.com/ht131/TP_Myers_Up.html">http://www.haibuntoday.com/ht131/TP_Myers_Up.html</a><br><br>Up in the Air (2019, March)<br><br><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2023-07-05 10:47:31 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title></title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/mpmyers4az/ygghts5j9g036nox/wish/2649432080</link>
         <description><![CDATA[]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2023-07-22 05:49:50 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title>Postmodern Art (2020, January)</title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/mpmyers4az/ygghts5j9g036nox/wish/2649441834</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>https://contemporaryhaibunonline.com/chohtmlarchive/pages154/Myers_Postmodern.html</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2023-07-22 06:49:58 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title>Only a Couple of Role Models</title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/mpmyers4az/ygghts5j9g036nox/wish/2653069271</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Eight years and one pandemic later, this is the second time I've hiked up the paved path of Tumamoc Hill. In this calendar decade. I stopped to watch the sunrise about halfway up. Shortly thereafter, I saw the two mule deer.<br><br>I'm resting at the top of the hill and overhearing way more than a snippet. The gossip of humans talking about others who "just gossip".<br><br>"We're supposed to be a church that unifies not divides," said the speaker who is "very dissappointed" in the body of christ.<br><br>Going downhill, I'm mindful of my feet placement with the focus on stability. I don't trust my knees as much as I used to.<br><br>buzzing to my right<br>birdsong to my left<br>I recall<br>the silence<br>of mule deer<br><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2023-07-30 08:04:13 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title></title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/mpmyers4az/ygghts5j9g036nox/wish/2653069895</link>
         <description><![CDATA[]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2023-07-30 08:08:39 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title>Balancing Act</title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/mpmyers4az/ygghts5j9g036nox/wish/2657039154</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><br>Young and bored, I suggested we climb a tree to traverse the roof of the cafeteria. We were often inside together, in line together, pushing our trays down the shiny metal path as we chose our items, but she would always turn down desert because she wanted to shed a few pounds. "Let me smell your brownie," she'd say. I always did. She said one-quarter of the flavor of food was inhaled. And I wanted to make her happy.<br><br>two peas in a pod<br>the sweet fragrance below<br>is gardenia bushes&nbsp;<br><br>Between group session and lunch, the time seems to stretch too long, so we are relaxing on the slope, legs bent, feet flat and planted, pointing down on the slant and watching people come and go from the entrance of the residential building which is opposite the entrance to the cafeteria. A nurse comes directly out from the lobby flanked by flowering shrubs, hands on her hips, and looks up and says, "Mary and Rachel, you get down from there right now!"<br><br>Surprised, I look at my friend with anxiety for getting us caught. She's grinning and pointing to the windows of the two story building across the parking lot. She always likes a good joke.<br><br>whirled peas<br>shelled and exposed<br>empty colander</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2023-08-07 05:49:15 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title>The Best Laid Schemes</title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/mpmyers4az/ygghts5j9g036nox/wish/2657044119</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Sailing alone around the room<br>like a stranger in a strange land<br>of mice and men,<br>I found that I am the cheese<br>in the valley of the dolls and...<br><br>that is the trouble with poetry.</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2023-08-07 05:58:03 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title></title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/mpmyers4az/ygghts5j9g036nox/wish/2657060102</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Insomnia<br><br>...or just procrastination. I must go to sleep. Success at work in a few hours depends on it. Or does it? I already bit my nails as far down as possible without going the extra millimeter which inflicts irritating pain while awaiting further growth. It's as if I don't want the day to end because it means I'll have to wake to another.&nbsp;<br><br>I already know what this one is like. I'm too old for unsolicited adventure.<br><br>the quiet&nbsp;<br>of pretending<br>the practice&nbsp;<br>of gratitude and<br>the hum of the A. C.<br><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2023-08-07 06:30:48 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title>Rivers and Paths</title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/mpmyers4az/ygghts5j9g036nox/wish/2661212536</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>He came back for just one day,<br>the little Negro boy from the landing,<br>whose sons and daughters were seen<br>driven back down into the desolate valley.<br>And he, too, had gone with them.<br><br>But just this one day, he is back,<br>a fully grown man,<br>walking with modern day me.<br>And my pale ancestors called him "contraband".<br><br>As we walked together on the sunlit path,<br>I was eager to show him that we eat at the same table, now.<br><br>The Negros Leagues are gone; we play together.<br>The schools are integrated; we learn together.<br>We, too, in America,<br>defend, work, govern, and shop together.<br><br>He smiles, tips his hat.<br>As we round a curve on the path, the Negro speaks.<br><br>He speaks of rivers<br>and I marveled at his history<br>that binds us together<br>though it was lost in<br>the shadows of discrimination.<br><br>I wanted to hold his hand,<br>to sing together the words of that mighty Negro spiritual,<br>"Free at last, thank God Almighty, we are free at last."<br><br>The muddy waters&nbsp;<br>had made the golden sunset of autumn seem so distant,<br>but the stream is running clearly now,&nbsp;<br>the poplars only bear their normal fruit.<br><br>We paused. As I pointed out a stone of hope,<br>I told him that there is a solid rock just ahead.<br><br>He says that he has already sung&nbsp;<br>while standing firmly on the solid rock.<br>The destination is farther than I think.<br><br>He tells me my stone has become a stumbling block,<br>Throw it into the river of righteousness.<br>let the cleansing waters shape it.<br><br>I did not understand,&nbsp;<br>but as I tossed the stone into the river,<br>the current seemed stronger than I thought.<br><br>As we rounded another curve in the sunlit path,<br>we stopped to rest in the shade of an old olive orchard.<br>The Negro shook my hand, thanked me for my time,<br>and we departed into different buildings.<br><br>It was Sunday.<br><br><br><br><br><br>Author Notes: The words and metaphors in the above poem come from famous others, most notably, Martin<br>&nbsp;Luther King, Jr.'s "sunlit path" and Langston Hughes' The Negro Speaks of Rivers.</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2023-08-14 06:05:59 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title>Finishing the Job</title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/mpmyers4az/ygghts5j9g036nox/wish/2661219521</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>So. I am approaching retirement age. Three and a half decades ago, I had plans. But plans change and the original ones are crumpled up papers filling the waste basket.<br><br>up in the air<br>untouchable clouds<br>until the rain falls<br><br>Several jobs, two careers, playing house, and a couple of hobbies. Not necessarily in that order. Life has a way of circling back. Sometimes. Perhaps I never wanted to finish the job anyway.<br><br>in the sock drawer<br>power of attorney<br>dust on the table<br><br>I look at the bin next to my desk where bills don't lay unpaid. Instead they float invisible in the cloud unless I have notifications activated. Yet, scanning the crumpled up papers, I see the remnants of unfinished poems. Time to take out the...<br><br><br><br>&nbsp;</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2023-08-14 06:18:25 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title>Plastic and Plutonium or Contemplating the Anthropocene through a Comet&#39;s Tale</title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/mpmyers4az/ygghts5j9g036nox/wish/2662352352</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>I saw a movie today. A lot of Earth-shaking thoughts were provoked along with rumbling and booms that were felt.&nbsp;<br><br>Unrelated, I have insomnia again. I'm lying under the cloudy sky and don't expect to see any more Perseid meteors. Related, I also don't expect to see nitrogen nuclei fusing above me setting the atmosphere ablaze.<br><br>when the can opens<br>those little bubbles&nbsp;<br>on my lips<br><br>Not worms. But I recall the rainy morning in Georgia when I was in 5th grade at St. Thomas More. On rainy mornings there were worms on the sidewalk. I remember the goosebumps and ebeejeebies I'd feel in the core of my being at the thought of stepping on them. Before class starts, on the playground, Marianne said, "I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes and hold out your hands." I did. She place cold cooked spaghetti in my hands. I screamed. She laughed. The 'worms' were flung. All in a split second.<br><br>torrential downpour<br>no sheets on the line<br>to bring in<br><br>My outdoor lounge chair is a faded blue, no longer navy, but still works fine. I'll not be going to the other movie. No pink for me in this dull reality. All the brouhaha holds no appeal. Not even with buttered popcorn and blonde beer in a clear plastic cup.<br><br><br><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2023-08-15 11:48:00 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title>Oh my gosh, what was I thinking when I created this shelf. Leftovers? Leftover from what? Lol.</title>
         <author>mpmyers4az</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/mpmyers4az/ygghts5j9g036nox/wish/2666255477</link>
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         <pubDate>2023-08-19 04:02:28 UTC</pubDate>
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