Donkey
Through tantrum tears
and sun’s glare
I glance up the hill.
Hooves clomp and hammer
as down the slope he comes,
skids on the wet grass
and shambles to a heavy halt
behind the five-bar gate.
His screeching bray
thwarts my daft intentions.
His tail thumps my thigh
and his nose nuzzles my chest.
Then, hoof raised high,
he gently kicks
all my hectic nonsense
into the long dew-laden grass.
Ceinwen Haydon lives in Newcastle-upon-Tyne and writes short stories and poetry. She has been published on line and in print. She has just completed her MA in Creative Writing (Newcastle University). She believes everyone’s voice counts.