he began under my chin
|head back||near the fence|
|contented||where the donkeys were.|
|alone, then fell||would begin|
|anguish||move toward me, and|
|the world had||follow. I|
I knew something made me afraid
several stayed then walked parallel to solidity
playfully, one would fence me, dumb and walk along back. Staring.
They would stand as if they’d wait forever across the fence.
The donkeys on the other side.
Summer grey blots, in a far corner
where they stood for Don Quixote
they managed serene when I peered
always move each other outside or within anything
something like a call was, who the results surely knew from home anyway
she’d thought of the black-illuminated night
at night across the darkness