Saturday, May 23, 2026

2025 poem

 Emerald CIty


Last night I watched The Wizard of Oz
and found myself remembering
the communion wafer melting on my tongue—
that thin shield of belief
I once imagined wrapped around me,
protecting us from flying monkeys
and furious, green-skinned witches.

How that Styrofoam sliver of God,
light as a snowflake,
felt like more than a symbol—
back then,
it was all the magic
we thought we needed.

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