This poem was posted at the odd, wonderful Orange Show in Houston, TX. I like it a lot.
when i was a boy
farmers used scarecrows
in their orange crows
many timid birds
on seeing the scarecrow
would fly away
now and then
a wise old bird
would come down
and enjoy a good fiest [sic]
using the scarecrow
as a perch
between meals
this had little significance
to me at that time
but when i got tired
of being a fool
i came to the realization
the fears of life
are nothing
but scarecrows
–vass young
