! Gratitude Dawning

Alarm clock. The sun rises.
The buses, railways, flights are running.
There’s a bottle of milk on the doorstep.

Facts of life. Except when they’re not there.
Who lives a life of continual gratitude for life?
Hey guys, the sun which disappeared last night
has turned up again today! Wow! Relief! Let’s get down
on our knees, raise hands, voices… and
while we’re about it, put your hands together for
all morning milkmen, where they still deliver milk…

Except – no milk this morning.
Shall you telephone – politely,
with a subtext of unpractised gratitude?

I only saw the current milkman once;
said to him, this is the first time I met you…
he said, well, you’re not around at 4 ay em are you?

So you telephone. A foreignish voice from
the land of holy cows replies from
a script I guess, …your previous milkman…
left the company… late…on his way…

Morning gratitude. The cow who gives you
the love for her calves, in liquid form;
yielding too, the butter for your toast;
the pig who gave her life for your bacon rasher;
the hen who parted with her offspring for you
to kill its life in sizzling frying pan…
they’re all female, you’ve just noticed; how about
the oranges whose liquid praise of the morning sun you drink?
tomatoes, mushrooms, anybody?

maybe you should write a note to the dairy,
say, please convey to the milkman
who has now left the company for
pastures new, hur hur, and we hope
a creamy, frothing future,
our gratitude for services rendered
which we would not ourselves
be easily persuaded to take on…
yes, maybe you should.

by Michael Shepherd

Comments (5)

Bravo, I like the title also
'Morning gratitude. The cow who gives you'.... hell M I really wondered where that one was going to go! Tee hee. Seriously, it's a lovely, serene, uplifting piece. Your forte of course. Noticing the little things.... grand. t x
Great rendering here Michael, one certainly doesn't think about the 'givers' of all our incredible food etc., Brings one back down to earth when you realise these things' A super read. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX
'cause we'm not got them newfangled fridgeraters, see..?
This poem's a bit rich, you really are milking it, if i phoned them to express my gratitude they'd probably say 'pull the udder one' in an indian accent......Milk deliveries have allways been a bit of a sacred cow in England especially for the older generation..... Love from David