The Transit of Hermes
       

In the sudden rush,
One cannot behold
The logic of the loom

In the cloth's deep folds
And swathes. There is
Blurred motion, a trace

Like a disembodied voice
In an elaborate fugue,
The unverifiable duration

(Neither solution nor
Resolution) of a note
Diminishing, pulled, as

It is, through the vanishing
Point like a thread,
And once through, vanishes.

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Copyright © 2022 Eric Pankey All rights reserved
from Not Yet Transfigured
Orison Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission