Scarecrows

A line of scarecrows, stand, arranged in an S-shape across the field.
The wind gusts and they fall like dominos on top of one another.

Crows circle, never scared for a minute,
laughing at the vanquishing of this human fakery.

Worms insinuate themselves into the straw-stuffed innards
of the pretend-men, now leveled,
and humbled by the blow of spirit.