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2020-09-03T11:48:02-04:00September 5th, 2020|Musings on life|

New socks

My rapture is perhaps
out of proportion.
They are just socks.
But it’s not simply that they’re new.
It’s the joy it brings me
that each one now has a mate.
A proper couple
with a fresh start.
It’s a September ritual of mine,
to turn all our orphaned socks
into rags,
and buy us all new pairs.
I have already mourned
the stragglers,
and I want to give these new recruits
a rousing pep talk
about not wandering off,
about not taking each other
for granted,
but even I know
that’s super weird.
So I just fold each sock
into an embrace
with their partner,
and put them to bed
as lovely matching clumps
in our drawers,
and I’m quite certain
no one heard me whispering
my deepest hopes for their tidy
and optimistic lives.

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