The gallon of milk was almost empty,
but so was the box of cereal.
Unrolling the noise of the transparent plastic bag,
I could see there were only a few small biscuits of wheat
above a layer of dusty white frosting
that had been knocked off with
every motion of lift and shake and pour.
Over a week,
I witnessed each diminishing increment of milk
and cereal and never once wondered
if they’d make it to the same last day,
but here they are, saying goodbye to the bowl and spoon
and to each other, as we soon will,
unprepared for the last bite of residual sweetness
that will make it almost impossible