Ruby Slippers / Drywall by Alfred Fournier

Ruby Slippers

Before Dorothy tapped those shoes three times,
her world was askew with wonder.
Whether or not she believed
there was a powerful old man
who held the key to her return,
arm-in-arm she skipped along that golden road,
each friend flawed with God-given grace
ready to defend her innocence and hope,
going all the way to the emerald gates
through darkness, dreams and poppies.

When the world sends its flying monkeys your way,
remember who you are.
Somewhere on the other side of sleep
shines a dream more real than this one.
When the Good Witch says,
You’ve had the power all along,
dropping the prop of her wand to her side,
you’ll see your greatest strength has always been
the pluck you thought you were missing.



Drywall

If you knew your long-dead mother was sleeping
in the hotel room adjacent to yours,
not in the wind-swept hills of her girlhood,
nor some grim castle tower gnawed by rain
into a state of decay, but just beyond thin layers
of drywall where every sound you make
reverberates, 

                       would you step more tenderly
across creaking floorboards, lower the volume
on that 360 speaker you take everywhere,
keep the TV news to a whisper? When you wake
in the famine of night, residue of childhood fears
brooding like a dark forest inside you,
place your palm flat against the wall. Listen
for the bounty that lives within silence.
Let sorrow dip and rise like a nighthawk inside you.

Alfred Fournier is an entomologist, writer and community volunteer in Phoenix, Arizona. His poems have appeared in The Indianapolis Review, Amethyst Review, Third Wednesday, Gyroscope Review and elsewhere. His first poetry collection, "A Summons on the Wind," (2023) is available from Kelsay Books and Amazon. alfredfournier.com.