by Lorraine Caputo
One chill Saturday morning I hear a man praying to the Virgin Mary Holy Mother of God Holy Virgin of virgins Mother of Christ I open my windows & look to the street below Mother of divine grace Pray for us Mother most pure Pray for us Where he is walking right hand up-raised Mother most chaste Pray for us Mother inviolate Pray for us The responses to his litany softly murmured Mother undefiled Pray for us Mother most amiable Pray for us Behind, his wife carries a cross draped with blue-white ribbon Their daughter carries a gilded glass box with the Virgin Mother most admirable Pray for us Mother of good counsel Pray for us & up on Panecillo hill the winged Virgin is lost in the new-day fog Mother of our Creator Pray for us
Lorraine Caputo is a documentary poet, translator and travel writer. Her works appear in over 300 journals on six continents; and 20 collections of poetry — including On Galápagos Shores (dancing girl press, 2019) and Caribbean Interludes (Origami Poems Project, 2022). She journeys through Latin America, listening to the voices of the pueblos and Earth. Follow her travels at: www.facebook.com/lorrainecaputo.wanderer or https://latinamericawanderer.wordpress.com.