Every dawn the din begins on the street below.
Trucks come, men unload bins, light glinting
off bodies of fresh mariscos & fish.
In the chill mornings, clouds of roasting-
coffee-steam billow over the tin roofs
of the market where multi-colored
The days age. Central Avenue is embraced
by bandeón-guitar tangos of blind men,
by the strains of a young girl’s violin.
Lorraine Caputo is a wandering troubadour who journeys through Latin America with her faithful knapsack Rocinante.