Unloading the washer

I saw the mate to my sock

had vanished in thin air.

I called my friend Shelly.

“Where do you suppose that it went?”

“To the Land Of Lost Socks” she said.

“The Land of Lost Socks?

You’re putting me on!”

I wasn’t buying into Shelly’s tale.

“Socks get bored” she insisted

“and they want a fresh start.

They get tired of stinky shoes.

Like people who wander

in search of adventure,

craving freedom, they go on the lam.

They creep out of their Kenmore

as it agitates, spins,

leaving half a pair wet, and alone.

What does a sock do

when away from his shoes,

and new to the singles scene?

He parties hard, and hits on

other socks on the run

while his wife sleeps alone in a drawer.

Ah, the Land Of Lost Socks

offers excitement and laughs.

No more trips to the washer and dryer.

No more pondering life’s meaning

from inside a dank boot.

It’s fresh air, wine coolers and fun!”

Well her yarn did make sense,

I had to admit.

Though I didn’t like losing my stuff.

But to seek something better,

is the American way,

though it’s so hard to part with my sock!!!

Michelle Close Mills ©