Another poem on the way to Quito:
Away to the east lies Colombia,
Land of the FARC and Medellín cartels
and away to the west lies Panama,
where lies the best of Earth’s great canals,
lying north-south to join east and west.
Yet clouds obscure the ground: I will not see
that world wonder on this journey of rest—
and is it fit subject for poetry,
if I but view it from narrowed window
in the skin of an aluminum goose?
Ocean ships look like ants in a meadow
from this height, but that simile’s too loose.
Now into a strange wall of cloud we go;
it must be South America below.