Milk-Bone
After thoughtful placement
The biscuit sits in wait
In perch on the porch
The milkbox holds cheerful ritual
Hand delivered by Smith Brothers Farm
Every Tuesday rain or shine
In the early morning, like the bird song
My children still as expectant as
Christmas morning,
for their next dose of milk
As expectant as their next nurse
once was in infancy
Yet expectancy is quiet now, sleeping
no barking, no wailing
no midnight waking
My new puppy just learning
of the gifts lying in wait,
Their seamless arrival bestowed
She remains quiet, soft look to the door
Shuffling soft pads of four feet
with my barefeet over to milkbox
Taking in the summer air
She chews her gifted Milk-bone
As if the marrow of life
Is right here in the moments of
Quiet expectation, that all is well
No matter our circumstance
All that is needed, will be provided
like a flower’s need for the sun &
the rain, always in quiet expectation
Sensing into the milk of our own bones
That All is well