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Poetry: Socks

by Jae Baeli

UNSOCKED

T'was the night before day
folding laundry with care
I found bunches of socks
But no matching pair.

These stockings were hung
in a bag on the door
a clever device
where my socks could be stored.

But somewhere between
being dirty & clean
the socks seperated
and haven't been seen
when not long ago I had a full set
now I have stragglers and I'm so upset

I've searched behind
the washer and dryer
I've searched down low
then higher and higher
yet no matter where
I look for these socks
I won't get to find them
'til one of them talks.

Then there's the mystery
of changes in hue
one black one, one charcoal,
one brown and one blue
They seem to match,
except for the color
one keeps its brightness
and another gets duller

When unloading them
one always looks better
In spite of washing them all together.

Should I buy a new pack
to solve all my troubles,
throw out the singles?
or keep them for doubles?
How do I fathom
the escaping attire?
where do socks go
'tween the washer & dryer?
And why only one
of each pair disappears?
why don't they vanish
along with their peers?

I suspect it's a plot
by the sock industry-
If you keep losing one
You'll buy new ones, you see.

I'm completely dumbfounded
and left with no clue
as Unsocked mysteries
Often will do

But they do go on feet
(no riddle to unravel)
I suppose socks
were just meant to travel.

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