Poetry: Scarecrow

| By Julia N. Duncan |

When I look out of my upstairs window,
I am startled,
thinking a man stands in the backyard
behind the grapevines.
But then I see
he is only you, Scarecrow,
keeping watch over the corn patch.
The stalks are now higher than your head,
their golden tassels just sprouted,
and little husks will soon appear.
My husband dressed you well
in overalls, flannel shirt,
and wide-brimmed hat—
you’re the best scarecrow
that we’ve ever had.
Yet I know you cannot stop
the wind and pounding rain
from flattening some rows.
And hungry raccoons—
oblivious to you—
will claw the shucks
to get to the tender ears.
But you have held the crows at bay each day,
and I can see by the way you stand so erect,
a painted smile on your feed sack face,
that you’re in exactly the place
you want to be
and are enjoying your job immensely.


Julia Nunnally Duncan is a poet and writer whose essay collection A Place That Was Home (eLectio Publishing 2016) has been nominated for the Christian Small Publishers Book of the Year Award 2017 in the category of Nonfiction: Biography. A new poetry collection A Part of Me is forthcoming from Red Dirt Press. She lives in Marion, NC, with her husband Steve and their daughter Annie.

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