Woolen Argyle Woes

by Diane Ludeking

 
 
 
Under the bedroom chair
a single woolen argyle sock
looks back at me
 
wondering where
its black, white and grey
partner has gone.
 
Sometimes partners leave
for a while, get lost,
go on vacation or
work where work can be found,
 
so you can find
new perspective,
the latent dream
written within you.
 
Sometimes it takes
their void
to learn that
 
we can keep
feet fashionably warm
and dance
without them too.
 
Sometimes the
loose threads,
pilling and thinning
in the toe and heel
 
of your aloneness
make way for a new
possibility, fitted over
the nine iron.
 
You are not alone
when the wedge shows
up in the bag beside you
wearing your long lost partner.