Milk

When I was a kid, our milk did arrive
In bottles, so fresh and so cold,
With small cardboard lids that you had to lift up
To reveal contents no one extolled.

Did we ever appreciate all that we had
When we opened that silver milk box?
Or did we take for granted those easier times
Which my memory often unlocks?

No microwaves, cell phones, or HDTV,
No Starbucks, McDonald’s, or such;
Though our choices were limited, we didn’t know
That we’d fondly look back on so much.

Now our milk comes in cardboard containers and no,
It’s not icy like I recollect;
But today in a specialty shop I did see
Bottled milk, which I didn’t expect.

And it brought it all back – that milk box on the porch,
Symbolizing those long-ago days;
But I’m pretty darn sure that when I filled my glass,
I did gulp it with nary a praise.

The lesson, I guess, is to see what you’ve got
And acknowledge the good that it does;
‘Cause even a seemingly meaningless thing
Can remind us of life as it was.