Poetry from Lorraine Caputo

WASHES

I stretch out across the white-sheeted bed
in my sea-colored room
dappled with filtered sunlight
I fall asleep, Don Quijote’s spine splayed
above my head

& I awaken to the sound of rain

I peer through the open wooden slats of my window
The sky is solid white with low clouds
laying upon the sea
grey & rolling, rolling white
Thunder tumbles through this early afternoon

This morning 
I sat out in the sandy courtyard
to eat & could not
I sat out here to write
& could not
I watched the white sun play tag with the clouds
I wished it would rain, that it would
so I could hide away
within these blue walls
where no-one could disturb me

I feel like delving into this poetry
to flesh out the sketches I have begun
to give life to them 
I want to give birth
to more & more poems

But I am filled with hesitancy
to hold my poems within these hands
& to shape them
My journal looms with its fleshless events
Fear I may forget washes into me
& I shrink away

Then once more I expand
to embrace the words
&       once more       I contract
 
A TOWN AWAKENING
 
In the morning twilight, 
a pair of women washes dishes on a corner. 
Then one places the oilcloth over the tables 
where soon they’ll serve pupusas & coffee. 
She stacks the plates in the rack, 
recounts the silverware. 
The second checks the swelled corn 
before taking it to be ground. 
The beans are on the fire.
 
A drunk stumbles & sways past 
on the other side of the road. 
In front of a shop, a man sweeps 
yesterday’s trash into the street. 
The broom’s swish is lost 
on the rumble of a passing bus. 
Pigeons swoop down from the tops of buildings. 
They peck along the ground. 
A skinny golden dog sniffs 
the garbage in the gutter.
 
A graying-haired woman in experienced haste 
sets up her general store stand. 
The tarp overhang is stretched, 
items placed on shelves. 
A woman stops to buy eggs & sugar.
 
A pick-up truck drives towards the market. 
Baskets & crates stack a-back, 
full of bananas, cabbage, tomatoes. 
Wood boards clank as they build make-shift stalls. 
Mangos & melons, green-topped onions 
& braided garlic mound. 
The rattle of a dolly, 
the groan & hiss of bus brakes, 
the laughter of men’s conversations. 
A radio is turned on somewhere.
 
The sounds of this town awakening 
swell around the pupusa woman who sits, 
chin on hand, at one of the tables, 
waiting for her comadre to return from the mill.
 
YEARNING THE SEA

I.
A child is crying
when I fall
into a visionless
sleep …

& I awaken
in the dark
to a voice
& the perfume
of a night flower

my journey soon
will continue
wending, twisting
from snowy mountains
to warmer lands


II.
In this lower place
the days grow thick
with storms
never to break
the sky heavy
the horizon hazed

I long to hear
the wash of rains
all day, all night
with a crisp explosion
of thunder


III.
I need to journey once more
in search of 
the rain
the sea

& in my fatigue
as I await
my near-
midnight hour
departure

once more I smell
the sweet perfume
of some flower


IV.
This new day I awaken
to flat, flat plains
& nearer to
another range
alpenglow-bathed
in the sunrise

Still too far
from the sea, the rain
the thunder


 
LISTENING

This three-quarter moon
brightens the paths
& brush

In the breeze
of the lessening tide
sway salt bush
& muyuyo

The night air washed
with the constant whisper
of waves washing
upon worn lava

& here I sit, listening
to this night
listening …

Lorraine Caputo is a wandering troubadour whose writings appear in over 300 journals on six continents, and 19 collections – including On Galápagos Shores (dancing girl press, 2019) and Escape to the Sea (Origami Poems Project, 2021). She also authors travel narratives, with works in the anthologies Drive: Women’s True Stories from the Open Road (Seal Press, 2002) and V!VA List Latin America (Viva Travel Guides, 2007),  as well as articles and guidebooks. Her writing has been honored by the Parliamentary Poet Laureate of Canada (2011) and nominated for the Best of the Net. Caputo has done literary readings from Alaska to the Patagonia. She journeys through Latin America with her faithful knapsack Rocinante, listening to the voices of the pueblos and Earth. Follow her adventures at www.facebook.com/lorrainecaputo.wanderer or http://latinamericawanderer.wordpress.com