I said every week, and already a second post...

Yeah, not bound to happen all the time, but hey it's my blog. This poem was written during my travels in South America...

Siempre Cielo

There’s something about an open stretch of highway
Something of a poem,
a song from yesterday
Sing the clouds down till sky touches the foot of road
A hitcher could wait for days,
with pancake clouds his only bread
And then a light, a truck
Argentina in a wind blown cab,
the pampa passes by
A lake and sheep, tableland mesas,
shrubs clinging to hollows
Andean peaks and glaciers,
like Atlas support the vault of heaven
Wind, a good conversation,
half interpreted half gleaned with intuition
Dreams are born on the speech of breeze,
dreams are borne on clouds
Carried drifting under sky, always sky