on the road

driving in the mist
on the window I can see
intrincated messages
that the rain leaves,
far beyond a bird goes by
between the pines and the clouds
the grey sky, the soaked grass
show winter time,
"queltehues" soaring in couple
the fog rising slowly over the oaks,
on the road
a man in poncho stays
the white stork standing still
both waiting in the cold of the day