In Fuzzy Socks and Crocs
To town he goes in fuzzy socks and crocs.
Do watch him! See how proudly that he walks.
He likes the way that everybody gawks
as he strolls down the city’s many blocks.
He bets they’re thinking, “What a silver fox!”
Whereas THEY think his head is filled with rocks.
How comfortable his crocs. How warm his socks.
He feels so good. Down by one of the docks
where street performers strut around like cocks,
I plug my ears. He’s playing his squeez-box!
June 16, 2021
for the Fuzzy Socks And Crocs Poetry Contest of Francine Roberts
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2021
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