The Long VigilRiddles are little poems or phrases that pose a question that needs answering. Riddles frequently rhyme, but this is not a requirement.
My history is long in telling,
Though my origins are unknown.
I watch the tender earth most carefully,
Clothed in discards long disowned.
I guard against the raucous poachers,
Praying for a gust of wind that will animate my lifeless form.
The autumn winds will signal the completion of my job.
Maybe if I had a brain I'd choose to move south for the winter.
Who am I?
HintThey say I have a head of straw, but superstition gives me a soul.
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