a brisk wind

There's a brisk October
wind sweeping the ochre
and rust farm fields today,
although the calendar
shows it's mid-September.
That late summer hazy
that had hung above us
for weeks now, warm
and comforting, takes up
with the blustery wind and
is migrating with the early
departures of waterfowl
and summer vacationers.
The fragrance of burning
fields, pungent but yet
somehow sweet-smelling, and
mildly memory-provoking,
charges the senses as it weaves
among the parched, plucked
corn stalks, while from a
distant corner of the field
an animated scarecrow,
clad in shredded polyester,
flags a ride with the wind.
It too seems to sense time
calls for it to move along.

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