Milk

Milk (to be read with “Oatmeal”)

 

[Oatmeal Verse 1]

 

Morning sings the sacred motions to me,

My daily bread as I reach overhead for oats,

And pull from the cupboard.

               -- And slippers call.

 

[Oatmeal Verse 2]

 

Gentle laughter in white bowls

As brown eyes meet mine,

And with a kiss like fresh grass

Milk follows in line.

 

[Oatmeal Verse 3]

 

Silence bookends our words

As samara thoughts wind,

And I know somehow their way,

Each one marking time.

            -- He sits on a curb, a lithic convenience for his tired legs,

               The heady smells of soap and gas mingling over and around.

               And with pruned hands he scrawls these votive words:

               “Live your life, and love.”

 

[Oatmeal Verse 4]

 

He looks up from the dog-eared page and I see his words inscribed:

In the eyes that still meet mine and stay,

In the wide heart I strive to fill,

In the children’s children we help to raise, 

In that simple bowl of oatmeal and milk.