You meet a donkey on the road...

You meet a donkey on the road...

You meet a donkey on the road.
The donkey stops.  There is snow
in the air so you both should get on
but you do not.  You look
into the donkey’s eyes and he looks
into yours.  You reach
to stroke his nose.  He twitches
flicks his ears but a moment later
his head is down and his nose
is pressed to your stomach.
So you both stand.  The snow comes on.
You see the flakes between his ears
perhaps he feels the slowing of your blood.  

Didn’t someone say once that
on the way from morning to his bespoke end
he found himself of a sudden
in the middle of a deep dark wood?
He probably took bearings of a kind
had a word with himself and pushed on.
You and the donkey do not.
Perhaps you or he are a freckle’s width
from knowing why
but you leave that where it is
if it is.  The snow keeps on
the donkey lifts his head
you stretch either hand to still it.
You look into his eyes and he
looks into yours. 
And now there is no road.