Driving Through Iowa

Joan Colby



Row after row after row

Of green corn, waist high

That I look at and look at

Flanked by

A running commentary of

Crucified power wires.


I think

Of unlucky slaves

Dangling in thousands along

The Appian Way but a

Whizzing white line

Dividing traffic is more

To the point

A ribbon of bone that leads us on

To the farthest apex

Where the road winks out of vision,

Crown of a triangle

Just beyond sight.


The corn goes on,

The power poles

The road

All pouring along straight

As if there was a reason.


Joan Colby has published five books of poetry: The Atrocity Book, The Lonely Hearts Killers, How the Sky Begins to Fall, The Boundary Waters and Blue Woman Dancing in the Nerve.  She has over 800 poems in such periodicals as Poetry, Atlanta Review, Hollins Critic, Portland Review and Barrelhouse. Recipient of a fellowship in literature from the Illinois Arts Council, Joan works as editor of Illinois Racing News, a publication for the Illinois racing and breeding industry and lives on a small horse farm in northern Illinois.