There are fields of grass

Lining the spaces between my toes

People live in villages there

They talk of giants and flooding

How the sky seems ages away

I imagine their world is much wider

Stalks of green are their skylines

They move through streets of dirt

Worried of being swooped off by birds

They exist the same as I

They are people who stand

Tall as my index fingertip

Carving their lives into the ground

Like innocent signatures

They watch everything grow

With prideful eyes- entranced

They look at their loved ones

Feeling happiness larger than their bodies

When I look at you, I feel miniscule

I shrink down to the size

Of the people between my toes

I am timid and nervous and proud

As I look to you beside me