You rummage about in my sock drawer
Finding long back socks
That go up to your knees
With the heel flapping about at the ankle.
They’re in the wash
You make a noise loud enough for the birds outside to scatter
Your howl fills the house as you lie on the floor
Demanding my socks
Your socks are not what you want
Your socks that you chose
Two weekends ago
And now disregard
Your socks so less important than mine
In your eyes
My long black socks at the back of my drawer
I never would have guessed
Nearly 7 years ago
The importance of my long black socks
little voices 