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

to swallow.



DeMaris Gaunt


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