Footloose
Who does not wish to solve
The enigma of socks
That go AWOL in the wash?
We count them into the machine
And then we try to count them out.
Yet ,no matter how carefully we try,
How often one disappears,
Lost in a black hole of the stratosphere,
Off floating in another universe,
Searching for a foothold,
Safe for socks.,
A sole survivor
Of an alien abduction
To spin yarns for eternity.
Copyright © Denis Bruce | Year Posted 2006
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