a word for this

what is the word, again,
for watching people get smaller
as you pull away?
like when i drive off
into the corn fields 
from my parent's
tall-faced farm house
& watch my brothers turn
into stones in the driveway
& then into glossy-backed beetles 
only to become
ants & then flecks 
of mustard seed my mother
will grind for gifts around 
christmas--
we keep each other in
mason jars in the cabinet 
where the fireplace used to be--
i like to watch you all
get smaller because the smaller
you get the easier you
are to fit in my pocket-- 
you fall onto my everything
bagels--
you scatter like bread crumbs 
or sidewalk gravel--
we kind of people are contagious--
let's become a fog & walk with 
our bare feet  
up the hill to the driveway--
hide in the mailbox &
put the flag up & down 
to confuse the person who'll
come to collect the mail--
i don't want you to worry about
me but i have been feeling
like everyone is getting smaller
& i don't have enough pockets 
to keep you all--
i feel like i'm six again &
sitting on an airplane bound for
disney
world & looking out the window
& watch the people on the runway 
disappear beneath the wings
& the plane starts flapping like a 
butterfly--
it's a monarch &
we're migrating south for
the winter to hibernate in
mexico-- 
a flock of colors-- we turn
into a sunset--
a stinging ray of
sun caught in my sunglasses--
we blink & fall lightly
as the white flowers
next to the baseball fields
in the park--
i always mistake them for
snow-- let's 
be snow together-- 
pluck ourselves clean
from the backs of doves--
throw handfuls of sand out
the window--
all us small small people
evaporating in a rear view mirror--
oh what is the word again 
for watching people get smaller?
come with me this time
so i don't have to 
keep you in a my pockets or
a mason jar--
we'll wait for the air
to get heavy enough
to burst into butterflies--
hail the first one we can grab
onto & fly away from
here on a plane headed south
where it's warmer--
where all the balloons
go when you open your
hands & let the wind 
pull them away--
where all the fog get
eventually swept away to--
next time we rain--
i'll hail & remind you
how heavy small things
can be & how heavy 
it can be to carry so many
people in your pockets--
let's be mustard seeds 
if only for a day--
i'll lay in your rear view
mirror & turn into
a fog for you to drive
through--