Dorothy once said:
“There’s no place like home!”
Where family waits, where we don’t feel alone.
Maybe she’s right,
On the subject at hand,
Yet I feel out of touch, too naïve too understand.
I remember the monsters,
Under my bed.
No comfort, protection, bad ideas in my head.
My guardian angel,
Cold and upset.
She now nods to the one, who carries my regrets.
No tornado, no monkeys,
No witches with brooms.
It’s just me in my home, dining with the king that rules.