socks from guernsey socks
of bristol ariadnes thread
is a whistle steam rising
higher than bi-planes arc
wool damp with mud-sweat
wedged into every second
parcel from home a rain
of letters withers a day
impossible stocks hatred
dreaming socks stitches
several strings a colour
electric as a rag picker
bundle stashed in moments
before a lightning flash
a grenade guards the exit
even the future is darned
1 Comment
Add Yours →explorer socks made of morning mist
on the football field the wingman
pulls up his black and red banded
socks to just below his knee
socks that tell you today’s expected top
white socks, argyle socks that
aren’t from nana at christmas
plastic socks that crinkle when you walk
adam