Milk Bottles

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