The Old Scarecrow Poem by Stug Jordan
The Old Scarecrow
Retired from the fields of corn,
the old scarecrow stands
abandoned on the lawn;
old ropes, binding his hands.
Almost ashamed to be wearing
the ripped cap on his straw head,
his tall shadow tearing
sunlight from the flowerbed.
He stands, surrounded by the flock,
laughing at his disgrace:
even the baby sparrows mock
his scarf-hidden face.
Clinging to the wooden stake,
his stiff stick neck tied,
and arms spread, wide awake
in the soil – crucified.
Hello Stug, This is excellent writing - I especially enjoyed the personification used here. Very nice job. Love, CJ
The enduring image from this (for me) is the shadow tearing sunlight from the flowerbed. Great image. Danny
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 7:36:49 AM # 1.0.0.1119
What a moving poem. I liked it a lot, one thumb up for your view and 'nother for your pregnant imagination.