Scarecrow, a poem by Deborah Joan Jones at Spillwords.com

Scarecrow

Scarecrow

written by: Deborah Joan Jones

 

High upon the hill where the wild winds blow
On the night of Halloween is where the brave ones go

Creeping through the corn sheaves, tall and looming
Shadows in the moonlight, long and moving
Can you hear him breathing? What’s he doing?
Gasp. He’s not here!

High upon the heights of the ghastly game
You must spot him first, to win, and holler out his name

Scanning all around us, he’s here somewhere
Running isn’t easy, mayhem, no fair
Is he right behind us? Don’t look, jump-scare!
Gasp. Man down!

Hunting in the dark, feel the folklore doom,
On the night of Halloween, lit by the low, full moon

Moving through the musk mist, murky, no air
Watering in both eyes, focused, hard stare
Heading right toward him, he’s gone! Who’s there?
Gasp. Man down!

High upon the hill with the scarred Scarecrow
On the night of Halloween is where the cool kids go

Creeping through the corn sheaves, tall and looming
Shadows in the moonlight long and moving
Can you hear him breathing? What’s he – he’s there!
“Scarecrow!” We win!

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