going by too quickly for the eye
& yet

all those who believe they really saw it
enjoyed (perhaps if but) a sense of beauty
relative, in her hurried Grace

--While, those who acknowledge,
cruelly, they see only
One Blurred Streak long of a World gone by

at least know the dullness
in the Direction
of World no longer going by,

which those who claim they can see
(in the crystal, acute & clear

Perfection of Concreteness)
right in front of their eyes:

the World frozen at its run

can but guess at
from the chance inclinations of
their own impossible positions...