Driving on, into the storm, I scroll the distance
Of static between radio stations.
The shallow, grainy depth headlights cut into sleet.
the winter’s painstaking erasures.
“Out of whose womb came the ice?”
the gospel preacher,
The single strong signal on the radio, asks.
A point on a breadthless length,
I move and stand still.
A tunnel opens before me and closes behind.
Eric Pankey is the Heritage Chair in Writing at George Mason University. A new book, AUGURY, is forthcoming in 2017 from Milkweed Editions.