A Single Sock Hanging on a Line

What’s happened to me?

She was here this morning, but

somewhere between the wash basket

and the kitchen, she’s gone.

Have I done something wrong?


We’ve been together since we left the shop

through mud and grass, through jump and hop.

What will I do without her? She’s my

everything; yin and yang, left and right

and I don’t believe we had a fight last night.


I know we were lying on the floor, tossed aside

thrown toward the bedroom door.

She’s my everything, and I’m no use without her;

unless the boy likes to wear odd socks, or

is colour blind. It just won’t be the same without her.


I’ll be sent to the home for single socks; that basket

at the door. Please come back to me, I love you

What will I do without you?

You're my everything

And you’ll never find another sock like me.


25 views1 comment

Recent Posts

See All

The demise of spaffer is a long haul; he doesn’t want to go at all. No longer in number ten, he can’t accept he’s a has been. Squatting at Chequers with all his pals, arranging titles to give them all

They’ll be here today, better get to work. Floors cleaned, beds made up; I can’t remember when I last worked so hard, for free-really, it not like me. Time to stop, have a cuppa, have a pee. The music

Hot June, hip Paris, hurrying and harassed, as we run to board the cramped and crushing metro carriage. And then, a voice from behind-‘Excuse me sir, but would you like to sit here? You look tired, an