This brittle boned giant totters

Down the road

Weaving more than a little

Since he’s a giant

But being provincial


Long country roads are no mystery

The mystery

Is in those who the road was built for

Not him

Not the giant

Who totters and falters and sways

But the others


Who pass by on the fly

Using this space

In some dimensional alchemy to generate money

When really there is so much mystery

If they would stay

In the middle for once

They would see giants

On the road




David Trudel   © 2013




Filed under Poetry

2 responses to “Giant

  1. This is stunning. It leaves an amazing vision even when you stop reading. Very powerful

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s