Silent Seers Poem by Phillip Erb

I've got a diamond-studded mirror
Made of sand and Plexiglas
And I can see something - vaguely
Unrecognizable in the fog.
Like trying to see the
Color of your eyes
In the reflection off of
A stagnant swamp under that
Pale green blanket of sludge
So now I wonder what it is
That I am supposed to do,
Pull up another sly'n quiet Vodou,
Out from under the sole of my shoe?
Who is moving up and
Who is moving down?
To the bed or toward the
Sewer-steaming streets?
Are you going to tell me?
Now what left have we to do?