POSTCARDS FROM THE ROAD : Venezuela
SEARCHING FOR CARACAS
Between mountains & sea, through jungles, along lagoons, over silted rivers. Sometimes that Caribbean just below my sight, just beyond the vine-draped trees.
*
Long ago the sea disappeared. & now we enter these mountains heavy-green. Along banks of streams, in the folds of land, hand-built homes. Their families sell coconut milk & candies at roadside stands.
* *
I am searching for this city. The shantytowns, the industry, the suburbia that always mark the entry of metropolis.
But all I see is this highway through green.
* * *
Finally nearing the center. Traffic jams the highway of this late afternoon. Yes, the stores, the malls, the houses – but still that verdant range.
* * * *
When will we arrive? We continue going on & on. The canopy of high-rise apartments, skyscrapers & billboards grimed by time towers above the canopy of trees.
ON THE ROAD AGAIN
Soon we leave the high rises of Caracas
& enter the forested high rise of
the mountains. Misting clouds
dampen the morning highway. The
bus stereo playa salsas. A passenger
in back sings along off-key.
We wind towards the Maracay lowlands,
over banana-lined streams, past sugar
cane, through small towns. A white dog
chases another across a field along this
road.
By the time we reach the lower lands, the
slate-grey clouds shatter the cobalt-blue
sky & bright sun. Valencia Lake ripples
white-capped, dully, deep-blue-deep-
green in a bowl-valley of the sierra.
From Valencia to Barquisimeto, larger cities
of this country. Will it be endless urban
scenery now? Or shall I continue to be
dazzled by those emerald mountains,
that sapphire sky draped with bauxite
clouds, these rushing topaz rivers?
Through small towns, past cattle ranches, past
chicken farms – & yes, the verdant
mountains …
SANARE TRIO
At the tip of these Andes, the slopes surrounding Sanare neatly parcel into farms & cafetales. Distant mountains, dryer & rougher, fading to ghostly silhouettes in the warming day.
*
By noon the clouds are descending. The mountains fall into deep shadows. The aroma of roasting coffee wafts on the fresh breeze.
* *
This evening bathed with mist, the sun paints these sierra lands indigo-rose.
My biography
Lorraine Caputo is a wandering troubadour whose writings appear in over 500 journals on six continents, and 24 collections – including In the Jaguar Valley (dancing girl press, 2023) and Santa Marta Ayres (Origami Poems Project, 2024). She also authors travel narratives, articles and guidebooks. Her writing has been honored by the Parliamentary Poet Laureate of Canada (2011) and nominated for the Best of the Net and the Pushcart Prize. 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.
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I love the focused concision of these, bringing these distant vignettes sharply into focus way around the world.