“self portrait as the trembling giant”

by Daniel J Flosi

We stood together, my son and i, in that 130 acre park looking 

for descendants, for those who slashed through 

entire mountain ranges and populated outcroppings, 

those who meander like stoney walls 

over vast plains, who survive on butterfly wings and cry

milksalt tears into poppling streams, 

for those who span generations like moonshine, 

or who propagate not through seed but who clone 

through rootsprouts,  who i said crossed this continent 

just to get to him — his eyes tickled by trembling, 

then i asked him if he thought it was possible 

that there were some river, or song, some wave connecting 

us all and he assured me there wasn’t; i want 

to believe that i won’t fail him, so i told him 

that somewhere in colorado there’s an origin point 

to all this shaped like a heart in the earth, or like a hearth 

in a home, or like a home in a valley, shaped like us

standing here together and when i asked him if it were possible, 

he just shook his head no; i want to believe that he won’t let me go. 

Daniel J Flosi sometimes thinks they are an apparition living in a half-acre coffin within the V of the Mississippi and Rock Rivers. They are a poetry reader at Five South. Their work has appeared in many journals including recently/forthcoming in ELJ- Scissors & Spackle, Funicular Online, Inklette, The Good Life Review, and Zero Readers. Drop a line @muckermaffic