Memory of Convalescence

Milk spills from its box as the girl pours at the counter.
Why is the word milky used to describe a touchable
surface gleaming with white? I would not use it
to describe white sheets, white hospital sheets
on the cold iron bed where I stayed for nearly
a month as a child.  I didn't know what my body
was saying during that time; can't even remember
what the liquid that dripped down clear tubing felt like 
as it passed through the cannula and into my arm. 
White as a sheet at first, they said; then flushed 
with the tinted foliage of fevers. In between, I remembered 
dreams of falling or flying. Time passed, as it always does. 
Cats licked themselves at high windows. I could see 
the wind slink around the corner, every hair put back in place. 
 

 

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