DELIVERYMAN

  

In the dawn's early light,

the crunch of the milkman's tires

on our gravel driveway.

 

Glass bottles of milk

wait on our front porch

to catch the gleam of the sun.

 

That was another world.

We were other people.

Behold, the milkman cometh.

 

My images dangle from the sky

like cotton candy in a puppet show.

Easy come, easy go.

 

My possessions stand safe,

in white plastic bottles capped

with bright red homogenized blood.

 

Verily, I've meat to eat

ye know not of, washed down

with the milk of human kindness.