Purple Donkey
the words ring
hollow yet donkey jabbers on while leaning against the tree
scratching his itchy
back he looks southward the direction
man and animals
disappear his hoofs buried deep in the soil he takes a breath
feeling a little
feeble the morning disappeared into the plow he takes consolation
that so far there
is no task he hasn't been able to complete he wonders
just how long he
will be able to do this as he is now 20 years old
May 9th,
2015
7 comments:
I like the way you personify the donkey, showing intimate knowledge of his character.
"the morning disappeared into the plow"...that's a donkey's life i guess...could feel the burden and the weariness...nicely captured...
A 20 year old donkey should be retired in grassy fields. I feel for him, as so should I be, LOL!!!!!! Am thinking of you today, my friend. The first mother's day after your painful loss.
Some skillful images in this. I love seeing where different poets take the same words.
The loyalty of the donkey is quite a feat. But until when the donkey needs to work?
I like your focus on the donkey - and how you've laid out this poem.
"the morning disappeared into the plow"
This is an absolutely stunning image, Annell. I am in awe.
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