Somewhere
up there,
above the air:
The giants romp.
In boots they stomp.
Clomp! Clomp! Clomp!
All the people—girls and boys—
we make a distant, tiny noise.
To giants, we’re dust—we’re toys.
We’re as small, to them, as bugs—
as worms, as mice or lice or slugs.
As small as ants—as tacks—
as—uh-oh—snacks.