I heard of Hermes from books
Tossed across fault lines, from man
To boy. From voices strained
On the stage, to the complacent ink.
Through widening ruins, fathering centuries,
A trickery passed down
In luxurious wardrobes.
But I have scaled these lips,
And these. And have traced centuries also
Through this willful terrain. A speechlessness
Wrapped in what a thousand pregnant mothers bring.
I learn the day from its newest breath. From daughter
To daughter, across the unbreakable lines of shadows,
Your body echoes mine.
Nathan Woods, editor/overlord