Am a little sour today
More than half-empty
Near the end of my days
A fresher version is nearby
It looks identical to me
But holds more weight
Ah, a hand is reaching toward me
Don’t shake me like that
I might curdle
The hand picks up the other carton
Which it chooses over me
Loaded, as it is, with promise
Of rich creamy coffee
I am all but dried up
Only a thimbleful of me left
Not worth pouring
Destined for rinse then recycle
May as well
Be totally empty
5 thoughts on “The Milk”
I enjoyed how you took a simple unanimated object like a milk carton and gave it a story with feelings. Good stuff.
I can’t believe I feel sadness for a pint of milk! Thank you for sharing.
Curse the person that leaves a thimbleful of milk! Think of the poor cow that worked so hard filling her udders, only to have her efforts poured down the drain.
Love this piece. Keep ’em coming.
It’s also metaphorical, as a mature woman……
Or an aging would-be lothario, Carolyn. Cuz they have an expiration date, as well.
Call it Karma!