There’s a light in the yard.
My old clothes are battered
on the scarecrow –
dew’s got them wet
and they reflect his hollow guard.
He’s a friend
who can be anything
when called.
Birds make a nest
on his head
out of his arms.
I don’t think he’s working
very hard –
The wooden cross
he’s had on
fit him perfect ever since
it’s first purpose to serve
as a gravemark for my dog –
a friend who could be
anything when called.
It was a lonely day
when we found him on the road.
Please watch well over him,
Scarecrow.
Some nights I go
wander there alone
and come home.
Some nights I go
and wonder there alone.
Alone.
Alone.
Alone.
It was a lonely day
when we found him on the road
please watch well over him,
my friend,
Scarecrow.
Scarecrow
Scarecrow
Scarecrow
© 1991.