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Socks

Upon my pillow, 

A single 
Auburn hair.

To someone else,

It  means 
That she was there.

To me, it is 
Eternity to share.

Love grows warm 
When formed a pair.

Clings forever where

Time resuscitates a memory
Providing life new air.

And we, like little puppies, 
Follow slow behind.

As they lead the way
Throughout each day,

To things with which 
We play.

Memories holy stirred 
Or haunting bold.

Socks to others 
Puppies chew on

When they’re old.

Copyright © Vernon Witmer

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