I came to know the milkman when each day he would come
And trade the bottles, air for full, to run upon my tongue.
A glass of milk will grow the bones, will fix the ill, and feed.
And his milk is the freshest; it's the only milk I keep.
Hot milk warms the lip of the reliquary mug.
I bring the warm lip to my lip and do not think of love.
It's friendship puts me on the stoop, planning things to say,
And warmest friendship makes him tip his hat and say Good day.
And so I set
An ordinary chair in the shade,
Invite him to stay.
Each time says he can't right now.
Each day the clock runs through, I will it go to then.
We hold the milk in common, for that's what makes a friend.
All my thoughtful letters sent must make the man feel light,
Like I feel when I think of him and imagine his reply.
So I set
An ordinary chair on the floor
In front of the door.
I can't let you out.
