Scarecrow
He knew our peculiar desire for suffering, He knew
we preferred the sighs of defeat and those left
by the birds in their morning flight, though our soft
eardrums were unable to capture the thunderbolt’s
rapture, we still wanted to lie next to the woman’s
breast, close enough to feel her pain, close enough
to taste the salinity of her skin and He, alone, encompassed
the earth seen by our irises His primal goal to transcend
our desires once and for all, while we still kneeled
before the scarecrow, jet-black eyes and straw hair
on his head that moved from side to side, myths upon
which we had based our existence.
Manolis Aligizakis 