Which way?
a poem
My guardians look askance — Dorothy with her basket full of Toto, the Blessed Virgin Mary in prayerful pose. Their reluctance, their cool dismissal, have me gnashing for a bit of insight. Maybe a traffic light, perhaps a road sign, a few orange cones, or a well‑placed arrow. It’s a tripping, muddy slog — boots swallowed, good intentions tattering into rags. Stranded like the scarecrow on the crossroads, tilted by the wind, yearning for Oz or even Bethlehem, PA.



There’s some lovely imagery here Nora… particularly love the swallowed boots and the tilted scarecrow and the whole swings along like a half forgotten melody…sorry for the late feedback~I’m blaming the hormones 😵💫😘🙏
Bethlehem, PA gave me a chuckle considering the relationship between Mary and Bethlehem, Israel. Oh how far Bethlehem's have come.