Woolen Argyle Woes
by Soul Places | 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.