"Milkman"
we arrive at the dark back doors
at the same time every morning
sometimes he responds to my greeting
more often he does not
I hold the door
as he maneuvers
more weight than his old back
can comfortably manage
six hours later
i watch adolescents guzzle foam
from green waxed cartons
they do not comprehend
the load he has carried
the joy he has not had
for more than thirty years
(C) Carol Wilcox, 2015
Tara is hosting Poetry Friday at A Teaching Life.
1 comment:
Oh, wow, at first I thought it was a memory of long ago, but then it's about your school milkman. Your greeting, returned or not, hopefully is nice for him. Well said, Carol.
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