On being small in the great scheme of things.
Small,
I look up to the angry sky,
Rolling, battle ship grey,
Marking the start of another,
Gun metal day.
Small,
A floating bird,
Dancing in the teeth of thunder,
As I watch the show,
Eyes wide with wonder.
Small,
I look around me,
And try to count the leaves,
Jostling, chattering, rustling,
On the breeze.
Small.
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