Mr.Basile

Once upon a time there was a Mr.Basile,

Wore a white cap and drove a white truck,

delivering milk to our doorstep.

When I was 5 years old,

He noted my eyes couldn’t take off the belt,

and he gave me the coin.

As my mother penned a note,

the buttermilk would appear.

In the bottle

Magically

He had a key of our home,

sometimes he took a break at our kitchen room,

Having a cup and telling the story of he delivery.

(When it was cold outside, we put the box indoor.)

Now there is only an old milk box,

and every often my son’s friends will ask:

“What it is?”

Doesn’t matter,

it’s just we see the past,

and they will go to the tomorrow.