Sad old donkeys

What happens,
when we put our sad old donkeys
out to pasture;
when their short term memory's gone
and they've grown too weak to pull?
What is it that draws us in
and makes us long to touch
these furrytale creatures
no one cares to care for any more?
And what about
those sweet dark eyes,
their vision fading slowly,
makes us hunger for another time
when they -- and we --
were young and strong,
committed to our tasks
and proud of our contributions?
I stroke your long white ears
and cradle your head to my chest,
and feel your youth -- and mine
slipping away.


* * *