The Witness

A scarecrow in an empty field.

The Witness by April Pagaling (in reply to “Wala Nang Tao sa Sta. Filomena”) You stand in the stubbled field,a scarecrow stripped of its purpose,shirt faded to the hue of stillborn harvests.January light knifes sideways,spilling shadows longer than your body,  stretching beyond the moment  of its making. I have witnessed this scene before.Escalante’s fencepost scarecrowdraped in a […]