Under horizon-to-horizon lead,
with intermittent rain more mist than drops,
we cleave Michigan north to south,
driving between stands of pine and birch
that go on mile after mile after mile.
Well that we ate breakfast
and fueled the car before we started,
for there is nothing up here, anywhere,
there being few exits and not a thing on any of them.
So much of America is just like this,
we know because we’ve seen it, driven it,
all beautiful to the eye but empty,
which makes us wonder why we turn our backs
on these latest waves of immigrants.
Just think what they might do
if they had but an acre of land to do it upon,
up here amongst the birch and pine
that no one else seems to want,
that go on mile after mile after mile
with not a human to be seen.
Brian C. Felder, in his 50th and final year of doing poetry submissions, is delighted to be be appearing, once again, in Chris Helvey’s always good-to-read TRAJECTORY, which ranks as one of the best literary magazines his work has appeared in. Other notable credits include the ATLANTA REVIEW, BIG MUDDY, CHIRON REVIEW, CONNECTICUT RIVER REVIEW, ICONOCLAST, PERFUME RIVER POETRY REVIEW and HUMANIST MAGAZINE. From the Midwest originally, Felder now writes from his home in rural Delaware.