Scarecrow

From the middle of the stalks, it watches the harvest as seasons change

Watches with a smile, amused by all beneath its plane

All that lonely eyes behold become characters

A theater production of crows, their calls narrating

A desolate performance of the reaping and sowing

That over many moons turned into a field un-growing

And though the legend is unspoken by the town below

The passersby heed the warning of the old scarecrow

Night by night, day by day

Don't go near the old corn maze

Harvest moon intruders fall