While sun rains Summer
to grow up more and more
standing here drying
whatever soaks us up
we are the scarecrow.
Where little grains
overlap sky I see you now
bearing the days need
kinship each other.
We are too far to share
even the starry evening.
Although the scarecrows
sacrifice for nothing
we are born to look out
If the enemy,
with humongous insensitivity
chopping up my flesh down
to my woody bone, grind
their tiny beaks and claws,
still standing here, just hope
they become shiny some days.
I will smile
through all these days if
they are able to fly up and build
nests near your ear
on your shoulder
and
sing my heart for you.
i won't fall down until grains grow up
taller than Summer
only after,
I'll be just dragged down
to woodpile.
Wishing,
that pieced bones of mine
can heat up the place
where you will spend
bitter days of Winter.