Between Solon and Cedar Rapids on Highway One 1984


Driving on, into the storm, I scroll the distance
Of static between radio stations.

The shallow, grainy depth headlights cut into sleet.
And behind:
                     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.