The Donkeys Watch the Dog Playing Fetch
The donkeys stand under the white pine tree,
rub their rumps against a fallen branch.
They would fetch nothing
no matter how I ask
and whatever they secure between their teeth
a rhododendron leaf, my misplaced glove
they never return willingly.
The Donkey in the Ice Storm
Always the unimagined lies
beyond reach
But the donkeys know it lies
within as well
The split rail fence
both boundary and inspiration.
All our lives there's something we're denied.
We'll die, as all before us
leaving something out of sight
leaving a world unexplored.These great poems are by Corinne Demas: http://www.amherstbulletin.com/story/id/167776/Did you know donkeys can be loving, loyal pets? They are both gentle and amusingly ornery and stubborn and will fight mightily when they see the need (hmm...)
http://www.denverpost.com/headlines/ci_10921163Even before I was political, I loved donkeys. My Eeyore pal was my best friend through several household moves. My best friend in lived on a small ranch; we loved the donkeys more than the ponies. They loved us back, but they were stubborn, ornery cusses at the same time. But with a little encouragement and/or a carrot, they would let us ride them, or they'd move logs, or pull our wagon so that we could build a fort. Useful and loving; a very nice combination.
My great-grandfather couldn't afford horses when he farmed--donkeys pulled the equipment.
Of course, this post is about the New Co--er, logo. Symbols matter; especially when one represents me, who has poured time and money into getting the best candidates offered me elected.
Thanks for taking your time to read this.