Dinky-House Road

I just realized our humble abode Is smack-dab in the middle of dinky-house road. We muddle along in our simple ranches And their add-ons that shoot off like stubby branches. We fuss with our lawns but appear as mice From outer space through a telescopic device. We barely make waves in the grand scheme of things Being no larger than droplets in a stone throw’s rings. But maybe someday it won’t be that way Perhaps we’ll be something or have something to say. That will be larger than tiny, louder than ka-boom Until then we’ll exist in our dinky-house room.