When the scarecrow began to move

We said it was the wind

But when it climbed off his crucifix

Our theories began to mend

He started towards the barn

Brother Jacob said to get inside

We shielded the young ones’ views

And told them where to hide.

“Us men best get to kill’n it”

Brother John said with his chest out

“The women and children will be safe inside

We can torch it in its route”

We opened the wooden shutters and

Could see the scarecrow’s path

It was shedding straw at an exponential rate

His expiration was simple math

Before it even got to the stairs of the house

It was just a pile of dried hay left in the grass

But before we could celebrate

We came to an impasse

A gust of wind picked up the hay

Rolling in single straws below the front door

And before any of us thought to move

The Scarecrow came to life once more.

Next Chapter: Uncle John