Scarecrow
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Nature has painted you
a moldy shade of green;
and you're the ugliest
scarecrow I've ever seen.
A grotesque effigy
in the image of man,
you're a collage of rags
on a rusty tin can.
Stuffing has fallen out
of your disheveled clothes,
and you hang deflated;
drooped in a ghoulish pose.
You seem so comical;
like a crazed circus clown
that's skewed lopsidedly;
and about to fall down.
You have a sad-sack face
too depressing for words;
and yet, the crops are safe;
and there's no sign of birds.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
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