THE CITY
(Caracas)
I.
This other overcast morning
I hear two snaps echo
up the narrow streets
It is time to greet
the day
II.
Children in school uniforms
adults in work clothes
hurry down these narrow streets
On a patch of grass
near worn buildings
A man awakens
stretching thin limbs
upon his mattress of bare foam
A young girl, child in arms
looks back at a late-30s man
zipping his pants
He yells after her
Don’t come looking for me
Two grimed men examine
the contents of a dumpster
trash heaped at their feet
III.
Morning rush-hour
through the transfer
Line 2 to Line 1
People orderly walking quickly
under TVs showing ads
& the week’s horoscopes
Down stairs, up escalators orderly
await the next metro train
to arrive, open its doors
Orderly off, a bit of a shove on
Within silence devoid of
vendors or musicians
men offer seats to women
Zooming to a next station
orderly off, a bit of a shove on
a warning beep, doors slide shut
IV.
Through the crowded market streets
of Barrio El Cementerio
People walking in the road
taxi horns blowing
barely scraping past
Stalls of clothes, of fruit
& more clothes & yet more
V.
The afternoon rain
falls like every
afternoon
Business-clothed people
under gleaming black
umbrellas bustle
Business-clothed people
stand under awnings of
gleaming glass skyscrapers
SUV & BMW tires
sizzle on
wet pavement
VI.
Dusk falls
with sirens
throughout the city
This evening the boys
abandon the basketball hoop
set in a 55-gallon oil drum
in an alley of this barrio popular
Laughter, talking, music from homes
two teenage girls calling
to a friend below
echo down these narrow streets
Until the night
forces doors
to shut
PACIFIC EVENTIDE
Rose-pearl sea gleams
in this cloud-
fractured sunset
I await the
full moon to rise
& beam upon
that tranquilly
rippling surface
to coolly burn
through the thick
quick-shifting sky
THAT FLOWER’S PERFUME
A starless sky
clouds this night
scented by golden trumpet
The music of a fountain
spilling its waters
channeled to a pond below
& the rushing river
below
A click of a gecko
or perhaps some night bird
* * * * * * *
With a starry dawn
a crescent moon
hangs over the narrow
valley’s wall
& that flower’s perfume
yet lingers in the air
BEACH MEDITATIONS
I.
At this hour of lowest tide
the fine white sand gleams like a desert
the deep aqua sea like a desert
duning then blowing
soft upon the shore
II.
I think of a friend’s message
I read swiftly this morn
Even we who go against the tide
of war, of politicians foaming with greed
& corruption … even now we
are pulled into silence are pulled along ….
Like this brown sand ripped from some depths
flowing swiftly to some depths far asea foaming
I walk across you to avoid your pull
III.
In a tidal pool now surrounded by black basalt boulders
gobies & blennies swim in schools
(such is the survival of the fittest)
A miniature glass lobster a phantom against
this white sand seeks my warmth
even after I depart its waters
IV.
Beneath a mangrove tree I spread my sarong
pausing to write these words
finches pecking amongst the leaves & twigs
before joining across the Spirit miles
Friends settled into Meditation
V.
Chilled by the breeze of a clouding day
I lose myself in another World proffered by a book
Suddenly I notice the silence left
behind by departed souls
I am alone upon this deserted stretch
of sand upon this desert isle
VI.
Only the constant roar of waves fierce
against the far shore of the point
of waves fierce against boulders
at the mouth of this cove
& the measured wash of water upon
the fine sand of this shore
VII.
I fall asleep wrapped in my shawl
listening to the lullaby
of green turtles rippling the in-coming tide
listening to that measured wash
the breeze chill, the sun clouded
VIII.
& am awakened by loud voices
settling in the sand a mere meter
from my mind
THINNING
This earth is flat & drying
vegetation sparse, brittle-boughed trees
the sandy soil sterile
Thinning … thinning
Schoolchildren walk to their
homes, small settlements strung
along the road
Thinning … thinning
Along the banks of a ribbon river
are crazy-quilt plots, corn
now tassling, newly
flooded paddies mirroring
the bleached sky
Thinning … thinning
& now-dried streambeds
pools of deep-green waters
left behind by man-caused rains
lime & raku beneath
the unrelenting sun
Thinning … thinning
On these winds of change
dunes form crescents
across the desert plain
Lorraine Caputo is a documentary poet, translator and travel writer. Her works appear in over 180 journals in Canada, the US, Latin America, Europe, Asia, Australia and Africa; 12 chapbooks of poetry – including Caribbean Nights (Red Bird Chapbooks, 2014), Notes from the Patagonia (dancing girl press, 2017) and On Galápagos Shores (dancing girl press, 2019); and 18 anthologies. She also authors travel narratives, articles and guidebooks. In March 2011, the Parliamentary Poet Laureate of Canada honored her verse. Caputo has done over 200 literary readings, from Alaska to the Patagonia. She travels through Latin America, listening to the voices of the pueblos and Earth. Follow her travels at: www.facebook.com/lorrainecaputo.wanderer.