White Mule

Poncho goes by
my house
4 times a day sometimes

He and his white mule
carry milk cans
in the morning empty
full at midday.

They carry bags
of silage and chicken shit
to make the cows give
more cream.

Poncho rides when he can
sometimes he walks under
a bag of shit
same as his mule.

Some people say
Poncho has a baby mind
I can not say.

He cried like a baby
the day his dog died
I thought
he acted like full grown man.

4 times a day Poncho goes by
my house.
He turns his head
to see me

we raise our arms
in unison
3 slow arches,


If we both count.

This entry was posted in Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , by vsvevg. Bookmark the permalink.

About vsvevg

Hello, I'm Abby Smith. I started this blog in 2010 to write about the pursuit of a self-sustainable life in rural Mexico. In 2015, my then-husband and I moved to Nicaragua, where we created a successful farm-to-table and in-house charcuterie program for a high-end beach resort. In 2022, with mad butchery and cheese-making skills under my belt, I started a sustainable food systems consulting business. Happily, I also have more time for my first love-- writing about food and the complexities of the simple life.

2 thoughts on “White Mule

    • Hi Marilyn, thank you for the compliment. I am having a hard time ‘following’ your blog, I can’t find follow, any suggestions, I have pressed every prompt, to no avail 😦 paz, Abby

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