A Trip Through Oz

Though the yellow brick road is but a memory,
and the silky green landscape is left behind,
we stroll through the garden of thoughts
caught in the bliss of momentary solitude.

She has been an indelible memory,
an addiction of sorts,
this game she plays is enticing
and I've been caught in a web
so strong I don’t want to escape.

Lost souls in the midnight charcoal,
she was broken and mended
leaving me to wonder of her frailty
in the open wailing world beyond.

A trip it has been, so far,
with her on my arm
to guide my way.

No destination
No preconceptions
No walls

Oz has opened it’s doors
and is calling my name.

© Justin Frieberg, All rights reserved