The scarecrow
uses mice for eyes.

They dart about
inside his hollow head

or alive
(so alive)

his eyes
climb on top of his
stormbattered hat.

Look now
his eyes

perched on the stuffing
coming out of his shoulder

running down his outstretched arms

& darting back when under attack
by big fat round raindrops

scurrying inside his head
becoming now his ego...now his Id.

The scarecrow
holding on to an horizon

as if he were
to let go

(so God told him so)

the world would fall
apart.

God sniggering
in the dark.

The scarecrow's eyes
(asleep now)

inside the hollow crown.

Dónall Dempsey

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hollow-crown-for-byran/