Country Road
Clop of horse, sputter
……………of motorcycle
…………..……………..creak of bike
……………adiós as we pass
Two men lounging in
……………rockers talk, the porch
…………..……………..lined & hung
……………with flowering plants
The spicy-sweet smell
……………of the woods, their cool
…………….……………shade … the canopy
……………casting mosaics … murmur
…………….……………of leaves on the breeze
Rustling brush, a boy
……………climbing a thin tree
…………….……………carefully
……………retrieving his kite
On another front
……………porch, a mother spins
…………….……………a string top
……………with her four children
Rasp of cicada
……………& cricket beneath
…………..……………..clouds … crescendoing
……………with sparse first drops … silencing
…………..……………..with the rain shower
A young girl’s off-key
……………singing along with
…………..……………..a pop song
……………on the radio
A pot-bellied, bare-
……………bottomed boy & his
…………..……………..dogs on the
……………patio of their home
The humid heat of
……………early afternoon …
…………..……………..the kaleidoscope
……………of darting mariposas …
…………..……………..the hush of siesta …
.
Sunday
I.
These morning streets are quiet.
In a shop, the barber naps, head
bowed, mustache brushing his
white shirt.
While the tailor sews, his balding pate
turned to his work, he looks up over his
glasses at each passer-by.
II.
The narrow streets of Getsemaní barely shadowed, sun
bright off the pastel walls of these centuries-old homes.
Bougainvillea vine the grilled wrought-iron of their windows.
Men push fruit carts – mangos …….. papaya …….. lichee –
sweating in this heat-hazed early afternoon
barely tempered by a breeze.
III.
This day grows longer with shadows
now fallen across calles and callejones.
In front of one house, women sit at a cloth-covered table.
One leans back in her plastic chair while another puts on
pale blue eyeshadow & the third shuffles cards.
A lanky boy perches atop a fire hydrant, staring
aimlessly across towards a friend
kicking a ball against the curb.
IV.
………………………….Under the brightening half-moon …
Aficionados celebrate Medellín’s soccer victory, car horns
blare, flags wave from balconies along Calle Media Luna.
………………………….The day cools with magenta-brushed clouds.
People stroll down these narrow streets,
across plazuelas.
………………………….& bells toll for six o’clock mass.
© Lorraine Caputo
Wandering troubadour Lorraine Caputo is a poet, translator and travel writer. Her works appear in over 250 journals on six continents; and 18 collections of poetry – including On Galápagos Shores (dancing girl press, 2019) and Escape to the Sea (Origami Poems Project, 2021). She also pens travel narratives, articles and guidebooks. Caputo sojourns through Latin America with her faithful travel companion, Rocinante (that is, her knapsack), listening to the voices of the pueblos and Earth.
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