The old telephone stand in the corner
takes me away, behind the wheel again:
all the way across the continent
when we came West,
the car loaded to the gunnels
and the spindly little stand
tied upsidedown on the front bumper,
its turned legs sticking up like antlers.
Day after day, I saw the new lands
through the opening between those legs.
Even now, I know that Iowa is very square,
bounded on the north and south by mahogany
and open to the sky.
-- D.L. Emblen
Don’s books have only ever been small editions. And he rarely has poems in magazines. I wanted there to be a Don Emblen poem on the web somewhere. Just so someone could see one who might want to.
“Boundaries” is from Notes from Travels.