The Milk Man


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.”

milkman

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