Milk Bottles Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

I remember them but I don't know where

milk bottles cold on the outside stair

the one we played on in the afternoons



even when it was gloomy.



but in the morning they had blue shadows

even the milk had a cast of blue

if I were a painter i would paint them there



milk bottles frozen on the stair

and the dawn is so cold

and you stand by the vents



and you almost see the neighbor's fence

or you think you do

icicles dripping over the snowball bushes



but it cant be summer yet.

milk bottles and a clanking sound

and no one else is ever around



stars of aluminum foil

shine in the pageant and it's only you

singing of the holly berries



maybe it's the angels out making their deliveries

who clinked the bottles and shut the gate

in the pale world like a dream state



two week till Christmas

we can hardly wait.

we go out in our warm snoods



our cherry coats.

and we are good.

and we dream of cream



still barely awake



of evergreen

ice breaking off

of the roof of the world.



mary angela douglas 9 november 2019