Those tiny people
growing green,
amongst a greener leaf

They do not celebrate
They will not clap or shout

Those tiny people slip
under doors, windows,
silent as whispers,

They forage for time,
Rest in shade,
Visit the garden fair,

Together, they lift
Push, pull, shift

Small cracks they
see through
to wonder, and stare.

Those tiny people
walk on wind
They tread on light

To build a life,
For all to share.