My Strength

Tonsils tight with apprehension as I peer at this place A docile and colorful tapestry of tiny men in hues Of russet, and pistachio with shiny golden faces As the herd of apple elephants ensues The tiny girl, copper curls whispering in the wind, Stood a meager tea cup against many red giants But when the gentle cup did not rescind The red giants wondered at her lack of defiance. They slowed to agitated stomps in the sand Investigating her with anticipatory eyes When the Crimson leader raised his hand Why aren’t you afraid to die! It is the truth I am after, no lies live here Her silence only confirmed to them her strength They nervously backed off, flapping ears Back in submission to their crowded dens.