Scarecrow Takes a Holiday
Having neither organs nor neural impulses,
I no longer ask why or how I hear and smell,
taste and see, feel. This morning I woke
to magpie song and onion breeze, in
a body not mine, yet mine, at peace
on Jeju Island, far from my crows, yet
still among friends singing the same
language. I know this: home lives
within, and no matter where we travel,
it rides with us. Like the man who
spoke to me, bald, bearded, a pale
foreigner in this land, comfortable
here, at home. He listened for my reply,
but unfortunately I’d not been given
a mouth, and my words dropped to the
ground and were rolled away by
beetles before he noticed them.
Perhaps I should have written a note,
but he wished to gamble and how
could I refuse? I am hollow, but not
empty, whole, yet not complete,
away but here. He took a coin
from his pocket, flipped it. I saw…
A response to Daniel Paul Marshall’s “Scarecrow Travels (after Robert Okaji)”
O at the Edges 
Marvelous! Another open ending …
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Thanks, Jazz. I don’t usually post poems so quickly, but Scarecrow was compelled to respond.
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Excellent. i pretty much gave up asking why is sense things too, i just do. i need to go find scarecrow & see if it wants to have a drink or at least amuse me by pretending. i think our comfortable state may be shared too. Cheers for this Bob, made my day.
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Scarecrow would enjoy the companionship. And thanks for sending this one down the chute, Daniel. Much fun.
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My pleasure. Scarecrows are not a common sight in Jeju, so seeing one triggered me down one track, Okaji’s poems.
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I think of all of us could keep going with Scarecrow a long, long time – thanks DPM and RO both for gathering us into your fun!
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Unplanned fun is the best! If Daniel hadn’t stumbled upon the scarecrow near an onion field, these two poems wouldn’t exist. And hey, feel free to jump in!
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Reblogged this on WilliWash.
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Thanks for reblogging.
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Good Lord, that brings me to tears of joy and calls to memory T.S. Elliot’s (?) work
“The Hollow Men.”
Ron
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You are always too kind, Obi-Ron!
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Magnificent fun!
On his holiday to the antipodal onion field, Scarecrow has taken his existence as dualistic monism to staggering, inspiring heights! As for his words, he can be sure (though, I’m not sure he’ll take comfort in that knowledge) that I swooped in to avail myself of their marvelous, little heads and tails before the beetles amassed their remnants into dung-balls…
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Although he’s used to his words being lost to the world, I’m certain that Scarecrow would appreciate your discrete gathering.
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So beautiful, I was moved especially by the lost words of Scarecrow and beetle transport. One of the highlights of my reading since coming to WP 🙂
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I’m honored, Diana. Thank you!
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You’re welcome Robert! Enjoy your day.
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🙂
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Meanwhile, Scarecrow contemplates the onion, each layer a different interpretation of the sides of the coin.
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I would be tempted to dice then roast the onion in olive oil, toss it in balsamic vinegar, and serve it on pasta with chopped cherry tomatoes and a bit of grana padano. And then I might contemplate it.
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I do the same, only garlic for onion. I can see how the onion and balsamic would add an interesting touch. I’ll add those next time, and think about Scarecrow.
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The balsamic is a nice touch. Sweet and tangy, but not cloying. And oh, yeah, roasted garlic!
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I can see how the onion and balsamic would add an interesting touch. I do the same, only garlic for onion.
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Both!
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