Scarecrow Dreams
If by night I move without aid,
what then? Precious flesh, precious
bone, never mine to lose – the difference
between nothingness and no thing. A
pity that my friends fly at the merest
movement, but when the air’s breath
stills, they sing and rattle among the
grain, scribing their days in song
and footprints, seeking the available
on the ground. And what scrolls lower
than the sound of sunflowers turning?
The laughing daughter runs around
my lattice spine, scattering joy like so
many seeds, and when my hollow
fingers clench, the earth quivers, or
so it seems. Then midnight returns
and I disengage and stalk about,
scaring rodents and their predators,
hooting in harmony with the owls
reveling in the night air, remembering
the holy shirt, a yellow glove, corn
silk’s gleam at noon and the warmth
of your fingers against my burlap skin.
I do not breathe, I say, but I exist. By
morning what joins me but the tune
of yet another bird, unseen, melodious,
the pulse of morning’s dew. Eternity.
How my straw tongue longs to sip it.
“Scarecrow Dreams” first appeared in the summer 2017 edition of Eclectica. Many thanks to poetry editor Jen Finstrom, for publishing several of my scarecrow poems.
O at the Edges 
I find this quite haunting and distinct
in the imagery. Well done!
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Thank you, Lucy. The Scarecrow poems just seem to write themselves.
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Wonderful read for early morning … headed out for a day of scenic driving through northern NM … inspired now to scan horizons for Scarecrow (or one of his cronies) and in the empty fields ponder possibilities Scarecrow may have stayed out later than usual, perhaps skipping a day’s duties, perhaps about to play peek-a-boo around next curve …?
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Scarecrow’s diligence would likely prevent him for shirking his duties. He’s committed to pointing out the choicest grains to the corvids!
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Wow! That persona, and the images and statements, as well as imagery locally around me known far too well, recounted here, the philosophies and existentialisms of a scarecrow, makes me think what fun. Thank you, for sharing this.
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Thank you! I’m so pleased the poem resonated for you. If you’re interested, I’ve written a few more scarecrow poems. You can find most of them on this site via the search function.
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It might take me a moment; however, don’t fret: I will search out these scarecrow poems. For now, I wish a pleasant evening to you and yours.
Best,
poetthatlikesvellum
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Thank you! And it is a pleasant evening here in Indianapolis (though a tad humid). I hope yours is as well!
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wow – so layered and well done
and really enjoyed the way you ed us to this potent line
“I do not breathe, I say, but I exist.”
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Thanks very much! It’s always rewarding to hear that a particular line worked for someone.
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☀️☀️☀️
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Just thought of you, Bob, reading an Arthur Sze poem, “Swimming Laps” in today’s 8/2/21 New Yorker. Best wishes to you, poetry brother!
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Ah, Arthur! Thanks, Brother Clyde. I hope these times are treating you well.
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Still takes my breath away, this one. (K)
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Thank you, Kerfe!
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