A homeless scarecrow, heartless
Dorothy, cowardly robot, and anencephalic lion
accompany you back into the closet
where you will stay this time.
Without witches, there are no
tornado warnings, and without colors,
the mining of emeralds
lining the brick
way leaves you and your
companions black lung
monkeys. They screech.
They jitterbug. They make
prisons out of slippers. There is home.
Your only home. Home to the wizard
tired of your visits, tired of you
forgetting the broom.
#NaPoWriMo 2016 Day 8