The hair is like
A ragamuffin man
As if the scarecrow
In the Wizard of Oz
Not that he cares
Or at least
He pretends not to care
With his air of superiority
The blue sky
The silver white clouds
The wind, as near and far
As the eye can see
Lampshades
Photographs
Double-glazed clear windows
With a gleam and a sparkle
The old clock
Does not tick nor tock
Neither does it chime
At every quarter of the hour
