2025 poetry harvest. #two

`
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> near oz
Find a place, far away
enough to feel like oz,
or home.
A place so distant
it could shelter anyone,
even us.
We should not think
of this, or turn away
from hope.
But we must keep running
at least to look around
that next corner
-dp-
4-11-25 (15+)
Boring note: I made a lot of revisions to this piece while processing it to this final draft, including a title change. It seems my constant folly with words is never satisfied. I’m never happy, and may sometimes ruin things at the last impulse. We’ll see!
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