I walked through a corn field and pushed aside tall green stalks under an autumn sky. I found a scarecrow and sat cross legged at his feet. He wore dungarees, a plaid flannel shirt, a black pointy hat, a carrot nose. His body was of straw and nailed to a makeshift cross. No fashion maven, he was. I looked up to see the bottom of his canvas sneakers and witnessed a flock of hungry crows swooping down from high above.
I asked: "So where's Dorothy, ToTo, the Tin Man, and the Lion, too?"
He looked down with a frown: "Can't you see I'm working."
I left the Scare Crow, my heart in saddness because I never found the answer I wanted in this field of broken dreams.