Elizabeth Gargano: Harvest
One morning the crows settle
on the corn in our garden,
dark flames on the candled stalks.
.
I plant a broom in the earth,
straw end up, wrap it in an old
raincoat, topped with a baseball cap.
That’s when the caws turn to laughter.
They know that trick.
.
Nothing to do but practice
being a human scarecrow
waving the broom in impotent circles
like a witch who’s forgotten the spell
to lift off, her baseball cap slipping
over one eye, her raincoat trailing
in the grass, feet rooted in the earth.
—
Copyright 2015 Elizabeth Gargano
Love this, Beth!
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