Across the dusk lit field, within my smiling gaze,
The raven’s stand upon the scarecrow
No more are they afraid
Picking at the woven eyes, disembowelling him of straw
Stitched neck incessantly pecked
The severed head falls
Straw mans unnatural wealth of abundance calls the crows and sparrows to strip it of its privilege
And redistribute its body to tree tops far away
That which still remains is retaken with the grain
Returning to the whole...
..when all becomes the same.