Asuncion, Paraguay
Like
Cameleons, we dash
From one patch of shade to the next.
The air is noticably cooler,
The intense colours muted.
We weave from the shade of giant trees,
To the full shadow of awnings,
To the tiny strip that edges store fronts
When the sun is overhead.
Jim sings:
”Mad Dogs and Englishmen go out in the noonday sun.”
And it is true.
The streets are empty.
Gone are the scooters, the cars and the walkers.
It´s siesta time.
Even the supermarcado is cerrado!
From one patch of shade to the next.
The air is noticably cooler,
The intense colours muted.
We weave from the shade of giant trees,
To the full shadow of awnings,
To the tiny strip that edges store fronts
When the sun is overhead.
Jim sings:
”Mad Dogs and Englishmen go out in the noonday sun.”
And it is true.
The streets are empty.
Gone are the scooters, the cars and the walkers.
It´s siesta time.
Even the supermarcado is cerrado!