Donkey
November 6, 1995
To walk sure-footed, clippety clop, quick
yet focused on the matter at hand
which is nothing more or less than the earth
beneath your feet - the trail you follow
knowing by heart each twist and turn,
each bump, dip, hole, runoff, where it is smooth
and where the rocks gather, and when to lean
into the hill until your head
is nearly touching the ground
and the dust makes you snort
yet you keep on up the slope until it levels out
and the trail narrows overlooking the canyon hundreds of feet below.
It's all the same to you as you chew a clump of crabgrass
and paw the rock while we take photos.
You snort with impatience, eager to get going again,
to return from where you came
though it isn't the destination that matters.
All that matters is getting there.