The Milk Man | |
481 | The milk man is a humble gent. |
He barely speaks a sound. | |
He wakes up early every morn | |
to do his milky rounds. | |
485 | He’s not a business man like some. |
He knows no politics. | |
He picks up empty bottle crates; | |
each one can carry six. | |
One dawn the man was running late, | |
490 | the sun was peaking out. |
He had two homes left on his list | |
to finish his long route. | |
When he approached the final house | |
he picked up empty jars, | |
495 | replacing them with sweet white milk |
and turning toward his cart. | |
But as he was about to leave | |
he heard a sudden click. | |
The door flew wide, a girl inside | |
500 | coughed lightly on her fist. |
When she was sure she had his ear | |
she spoke this compliment: | |
“Thank you for your kind services, | |
your milk’s always so fresh!” | |
505 | The milk man heard her gratitude |
but shied away at thanks. | |
“Oh Miss, I just deliver milk | |
in its completed state. | |
Some other men do all the work. | |
510 | They milk and pasteurize, |
then cleaners clean and bottlers cap | |
and bosses supervise.” | |
The girl responded with nice words: | |
“You’re more than that, you know. | |
515 | Come back tomorrow at this time, |
I promise you a show…” | |
The milk man blankly stared at her, | |
then turned around and left. | |
He couldn’t help but wonder at | |
520 | whatever she had meant. |
The next day he began his route. | |
He walked through quiet dusk. | |
Despite the young girl’s prophecy, | |
the man would not grow fussed. | |
525 | And then the last house did appear. |
All seemed as well it should. | |
He picked up crates and dropped off milk, | |
his job complete and good. | |
But once again the portal creaked! | |
530 | Girl ushered milk man in. |
The room contained the neighborhood – | |
his clients, and all grinned. | |
Miss Jacobs showed her prize bleu cheese. | |
The baker shared his cakes. | |
535 | And yogurts, milk shakes, crème brûlée |
were all placed on display. | |
“You’re milk man, cheese man, cake man too,” | |
the girl spoke gladly thus, | |
“What you deliver every day | |
540 | contributes to so much.” |
Monthly Archives: December 2014
The Milk Man
The Prisoner
The Prisoner | |
421 | A prisoner arrived one day |
at Coffee County jail. | |
The verdict was for ten to life | |
without parole or bail. | |
425 | The first few months were difficult. |
His cell mates often raged. | |
The confines of his tiny space | |
made him regret his cage. | |
“There’s no escape,” that’s what they say, | |
430 | “These walls will suffocate. |
Constricted, breathless you will be. | |
Your life is confiscate.” | |
Well, time went by, and life grew grim, | |
then prisoner decides | |
435 | he won’t be trapped by these gray walls |
until the day he dies. | |
He steals a spoon from the canteen. | |
At night he slowly digs. | |
He scratches holes just barely deep. | |
440 | Each never gets too big. |
He started on the far left wall, | |
which juxtaposed outside, | |
then switched his target to the back, | |
which softer rock comprised. | |
445 | Some years go by; the walls expand |
a little at a time. | |
The guards don’t notice anything; | |
they only see hard lime. | |
Expanding cells have ill effects, | |
450 | the prisoner soon knew. |
The noise was greater from the back. | |
The left was cold as blue. | |
But he kept digging up those walls. | |
He never missed an inch. | |
455 | The cell grew wider every day, |
but thirst was never quenched. | |
“I want more room so I can stretch! | |
I want to run ten miles! | |
This cell cannot contain my needs, | |
460 | nor to what I aspire.” |
And then one day he dug too deep, | |
for light escaped a crack. | |
He braced himself, and then he gave | |
that thin rock wall a whack. | |
465 | A hole stood wide, no going back, |
the guards would see his deed. | |
He stepped outside the wall divide | |
and breathed in flowering trees. | |
His world was now so limitless. | |
470 | His walls were broken down. |
No one could tell him what to do. | |
Give prisoner a crown! | |
But then a bang and sudden pain… | |
A bullet pierced his back. | |
475 | The world was spinning quickly now. |
His life was fleeing fast. | |
The prisoner had pushed his bounds, | |
he’d bettered his poor fare. | |
But walls protect; he’d never learned | |
480 | it’s dangerous out there. |
The Astronaut
The Astronaut | |
361 | An astronaut goes for a walk |
outside among the stars. | |
His trusty craft beneath his feet | |
has taken him quite far. | |
365 | The sailor of the stars steps up, |
and gravity takes pull. | |
What feels an inch becomes a yard; | |
brief flight elates his sole. | |
He climbs up to the viewing deck, | |
370 | slow motion takes a while, |
and at his goal he looks around | |
and cannot help but smile. | |
For ever since he was quite young | |
the moon was more than bright. | |
375 | It was a place to touch and feel, |
to study in the night. | |
He followed rules, excelled at math, | |
his shape remained pristine. | |
One afternoon then NASA called | |
380 | and offered him his dream. |
And so he stands surrounded by | |
quite frankly everything. | |
He looks out left at Mars’ bright red, | |
now right at Saturn’s rings. | |
385 | The wonders that the sailor’s seen |
can barely be described. | |
The brightness of a newborn star | |
looks magical this high. | |
The darkness of the universe | |
390 | still makes him hold his breath. |
Abyss had never seemed so black | |
until he trod its depths. | |
And even in his special suit | |
the cold pervades his veins, | |
395 | but ice can’t numb his boyish awe. |
He feels so young again. | |
There far below is planet Earth | |
whose continents conceal | |
a hundred hundred thousand men | |
400 | whose tiny lives are real. |
His job is truly wondrous. | |
It cannot be explained. | |
Some things need be experienced | |
to fully comprehend. | |
405 | The astronaut proceeds back now. |
The airlock guards his path. | |
He floats down to his office space | |
and documents a graph. | |
His toothpaste meal will have to do. | |
410 | It’s roast beef, peas, and bread. |
Then after he enjoys a book | |
he’ll float on up to bed. | |
Before he sleeps, he always looks | |
at photos of his wife | |
415 | and little girl, who’s just turned three: |
his newborn star – so bright! | |
And as he sails the universe | |
above Earth’s bluish dome, | |
the astronaut lies wondering: | |
420 | how far away is home? |