“Tales From the West” by Christina Brooks


Flying west, my broom leaves soft streaks
Against the growing evening sky
As I race the pigeons home from Oz

In search of ruby slippers I wear
My "heart" upon my feet
Not on my sleeve as others do
My dancing shoes they are
Stolen and now brandished
On the feet of a younger woman
Worn boldly, mocking my aching heart
The wizard has left me for her
Forlorn and forsaken
In my lonely Western realm
I wonder what the world has come to
     when the young can so easily usurp the old?
Treading a broken trail of tears to truth
Wanting, but not walking
The many miles they need
To find their own way home

The one who now wears my heart upon her feet
Does not know the pain she causes
With each tender step she takes
Or even wonders why they glisten so

My ruby slippers... my way back home as well.