Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2020
I lose one sock every other washing.
The wisdom of the washer and dryer
says that God is stockpiling the lost one
to be reunited with the other in heaven.
Does that mean those with perfectly
mated, never separated pairs, are
doomed to the spin dry of eternal hell?
But then, it’s Smart of God, not letting me
hop around on one foot in my nakedness.

Socks are greater than love.  
They remind us that things
lost will eventually be found,
show the foolishness of looking
back to see what’s coming.
They are reminders that
rain is the reason clotheslines
have disappeared.
Written by
Jonathan Moya  63/M/Chattanooga, TN
(63/M/Chattanooga, TN)   
433
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems