Catherine Weiss<\/p>\n
When the days grow short and cold,
\nWe burn the formal scarecrow.
\nWe place him up upon the cross;
\nHe wears an old tuxedo.<\/p>\n
We douse him in some kerosene,
\nSet alight his natty tie;
\nThe night is raw — this bitter wind
\nMeans scarecrow now must die.<\/p>\n
The flames whip up in frenzied bursts,
\nConsuming him entirely.
\nCries of pitied shock ring out from we
\nWho watch this show, so fiery.<\/p>\n
In winter we will spread the ash
\nO\u2019er fields and snowy crests.
\nThere the formal scarecrow lies;
\nIn cinders he will rest.<\/p>\n
When the springtime comes at last,
\nWe sew cufflinks in the earth,
\nAnd from the end of scarecrow
\nComes a gentle kind of birth.<\/p>\n
Summertime is when we work;
\nThere\u2019s little need for prayer.
\nWhen the days are long and bright,
\nWe harvest formalwear.<\/p>\n
CATHERINE WEISS<\/strong> is a poet and author living in Northampton, MA. More about her work can be found at catherineweiss.com<\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Catherine Weiss When the days grow short and cold, We burn the formal scarecrow. We place him up upon the cross; He wears an old tuxedo. We douse him in some kerosene, Set alight his natty tie; The night is … Continue reading