Patrick Kavanagh

The Ass

In the stoney corner
Under an old thorn
The ass is dreaming
Perhaps of green corn.

His head between his forelegs
Like an old man
[Padding] to twilight death
In his empty kitchen.

The saga of the stones
The ass has read,
And the love of sloe and haw
Is heavy as dying wine in his long he[ad]
Scroll to Top