Dorothy

kinda wizard of oz?

As she listens to the wind beat the branches of the trees outside her window,

She wonders how the weather is in Oz this time of year.

 

As she lays her head down on her

Tornado-blue

Pillow;

As she pulls

            The tree thick blankets

            Over her plaid pajamas and

            Up to her nose,

She wonders if perhaps

The whistling—

The Banshee Wind outside—

            Is it staining the streets a

            Certain shade of yellow?

 

Every time she hears the wind

Wailing such a chorus,

She thinks she’ll never fall asleep again.

 

Reviews

[Dressed in Poetry]

She can never forget, of course.

I really want to watch Wizard of Oz now. Or read the book.