Something Stirs in Oz

How do you kill a witch?
Dorothy thought she'd done it with a house,
dropping it square on my sister's head.
Then there was my own demise by water,
where she saw me melt into infinity.

To be sure, it was a shock to be disincorporated
by that annoying girl.
But dead? Killed? No, humans -- not me.
Not even my dear squashed sister.

How do you sleep these autumn nights, Dorothy?
Are you restless, murmuring in the night,
reaching out for your Tin Man, Lion or Scarecrow?
They can't help you now.
Those ruby slippers can't take you far enough.
Retribution is coming, my pretty, and you'll wish for a
house to fall on you
or a tornado to whirl you away.

Pamela J. Jessen

Pamela J. Jessen (Poncagirl@att.net) writes: "I've always loved fairy tales - the darker the better. They appealed to the part of me that dreamed of adventure in a landscape far different from the Iowa bluffs where I grew up."

The slippers at the top of the page are by W. Woloson.