I was tiny. A speck on a ladybug’s spot. While all about the giants clomped and stomped
Trampling every blade of tender grass in their wide flung paths. Hey oh! They sing as they
Go, trundling hither and yon. And this speck hunkered down behind an oak leaf blown to
Ground by a fierce passing storm. Any port in a tempest, any leaf in a wind. Hide ye sweet
Speckled bairns. And live to breathe yet another sweet day outside of the giants’ bold gaze.