SWWIM sustains and celebrates women poets by connecting creatives across generations and by curating a living archive of contemporary poetry, while solidifying Miami as a nexus for the literary arts.
Dust grounds me here, air thick, streets uneven, light blurred. Murals on cracking cement walls, entangled serpents in fading greens and reds. Chipped black paint on the long hair of a woman, her head raised high, above her in blue letters: AMOR.
Dust of memories blown away in the taste of corn masa, carried by the perfume of fresh guayaba. Untethered from sorrow, shared stories, a ground empty of ghosts.
Dust on the wooden counter in a local market, the old woman cleans with a rag. I am starved, I say. The market closing, there is nothing left.
Dust of her kindness, as she heats corn tortillas on her blackened comal, on the temporary stove, offering whatever she has: a hard-boiled egg, one tomato, and a plate, while I sit on the wobbly bench.
Dust of tender sadness the pesos heavy in my pocket, when I ask, How much? Nothing, she says.
Dust of greed, grief, and gluttony disappears as I walk unknown streets, my steps forming words, as I invent a prayer, that is not a supplication, or an invocation, or devotion to an unknown Lord, but a litany
Aum. Be safe. Namaste. Dust dissolves. A thin blade of light pierces through, reaching the ground where I stay.
Maria Caponi was born and grew up in Buenos Aires, Argentina. She has a Ph. D. in physics and a creative certificate in fiction writing with distinction from UCLA. A list of her work can be found at mariacaponi.com.
