Ode to a Donkey

Ode to a Donkey

I first saw you in a Breton field,

recognised a familiarity.

We were adoptees, overly-laden,

our mothers were both beasts of burden too.

Like my dog and me we did not need to speak.

Scarred, haunted somewhat, sad-eyed and stubborn,

our pasts were a fable of sorts, a legend

but you wore a holy cross for all to see.

Your back carried my children but you would

not be overloaded.  Long-lived and much

longer-loved, you were the bravest and the

best of beasts, a dear and darling donkey.

Cait O’Connor