cold milk

as you turn
the carton of skim
towards your
cereal in the morning,
you remember
when you were a child
and could not get
enough milk, pouring
it into a cup
from the cold
glass bottle that
was left on your
front porch. how
thick and white
it was. heavy
going down, filling
you, quenching
that thirst. but
now, it's thin,
translucent. hardly
milk at all. making
perhaps the heart
and arteries happy,
but certainly not
your soul, or you.