Ode To New White Socks
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Cotton fields
White to harvest
Untouched by red clay
Trash, sediment
Banked white snow
Fluffy
Not visited
By neighborhood dogs
Right out of the pack
The scent of clean,
Soft cotton
Dry and warm
Slip one on, then two
Encapsulate the feet
Like clean silver fog
Coats each tree
Ten hours later
There's dirt, stink
Old shoe leather stains
Then tossed into hamper
No longer new
No longer clean
No longer white
Just dirty old socks
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2018
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