bedraggled
the scare crow's chin
upon his chest
digging deep furrows
with wind's indecision
a straw buried heart
plucked
by the birds
the scare crow's chin
upon his chest
digging deep furrows
with wind's indecision
a straw buried heart
plucked
by the birds
"a straw buried heart"!
ReplyDeleteDoes your mind just DO this? A poem where everything familiar becomes "other" and fits together in a remarkable, even disturbing way like an Arcimboldo painting...All I can say is the woman is a poet!
Brian, Thought you'd like that. Alas, I'm very odd, and when I'm lucky a good 'un will pop out. :)
ReplyDeleteWish it were more often.
If I were Dorothy, you'd be my Scarecrow. You have a wonderful brain, and seem to understand mine. Thanks for that!
~Kay