Pikes Peak State College Faculty and Staff Creative Writers' Group
Strawberry Milk by LaChelle (Sage) Schilling
by LaChelle (Sage) Schilling
Why did I slip day-old yellow stockings
over olive knit tights, slap on a matted beanie
to walk to the market in daylight?
Some people don’t think you should
browse when you already have bags of coffee
half-used on the top of a microwave
that needs dusting. I’m simply considering
coming out as a tea drinker,
yet I also turn into the coffee aisle
just to see the options.
I actually like the coffee I have:
it’s comfortable and I’m productive with it,
makes me a better person.
We’ve been off-and-on for 6 years.
Maybe I shouldn’t even be consuming
beverages until I get my shit together.
I cup a caramel chai tea tin,
thumb its cold foil of cheap around the circumference,
blink at a bag of Columbian cinnamon dark roast,
its blurred cursive motto reminding me of Christmas 1996;
then, ashamed and tired, I cross to the next lane,
toss strawberry milk into my cart
to devour on the way home, something quick
that no one will guess.