The Unparalleled Scarecrow

by Mariam S., 15

I spot the hills,
and they pull my soul out—

with every blow of wind,
and every autumn leaf.

It falls and fades;
nothing really waits.

The silence howls,
echoes louder than a haunted house.

In a costume,
or not,
my eyes are glued to you—

the unparalleled scarecrow,
to the whispers of my corn maze.

Madhabdi, Dhaka, Bangladesh