jocelyn vye

A donkey roams his pen at Camp Baduhm
Lashed black eyeballs bat away blood-swelled bugs
While braying breath melts bale fulls from his gums
His well-groomed withers, clipped for human hugs

I sat with him one weekend as a friend
Envisioning hoof rot splotched with scarlet stains
If unfenced, would he trot to bitter ends?
Or is it warm there where his roving’s tamed?

I wept soft weeps in leaving past his graze
His skull compressing back behind the dust 
I’d lost myself within his labyrinth gaze 
I promised I’d release him, that I must

I rendered burden with my foalish eyes
I’d gouge them now to be a beast so wise