THE SCARECROW
I know
a fellow,
an odd fellow,
dressed in yellow
with a hat and a bow.
He carries
a wheelbarrow
with seeds to sow.
He throws
them in
narrow
furrows
high and low
when the wind blows.
He rests under a willow
to eat a marrow
with bone marrow
and marshmallows
from a bowl.
He scares the crows
and the sparrows
standing like a scarecrow.
He moves like a shadow
watching narrowly
the seeds to grow.
In winter he freezes
to the marrow.
When the corn
is ready to mow,
he mows
it with the mower,
and gives the crop
to the owner
with great sorrow.
I saw it from my window
while shaking my pillow
and hoping for the rainbow
I do feel sorrow
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