(North shore Kauai)

We think they’re donkeys,
but maybe they’re burros…
we don’t know, and we don’t care,

because I have a bag of small carrots
I’ve been saving for some four-hooved
animal across the road—from the mooing

pipi wahine (at least she sounds like a cow)
to the lio I have fed before, who gallop
across that field to meet me at

the barbed wire, eager for apples.
And today the hoki—a mama and baby—
come to the fence, their long ears

aimed at us like antennae, the baby
still nursing, not ready for carrots,
sniffing but not grasping,

though the mama’s soft muzzle
nuzzles my palm like a prayer,
her nostrils whuffing, her teeth

never grazing my hand,
happily crunching carrots,
every last one by one

by one.

•••

hoki: donkey
pipi wahine: cow
lio: horse