|Gia lives in Astoria, New York.|
© 2003 Gia Lara
Lone sock, one of a pair,
that made its way into the pile of things
I own, today being the day
for sorting, cleaning, keeping
Restoring some sense
and semblance of intent into
the disarray of spaces that
There should be no more meaning in that sock
than this: that those things which
are often paired are
just as often
rent asunder. Life
imagined spent together, one of two,
is never realized
becoming fuel for another dream.
Assuming, of course, that even socks can dream.
There's truth in that, especially when
the sock in question lost, not just its mate,
But its owner;
victim of another night spent in an other's bed,
and in the hurry of the morning after
Tossed into some corner that doubles as
the site of things that need to be forgotten.
Socks are easily replaced.
Is the same the case
For those that own and leave them?
The sock was clean
by the time it was recovered, looked at
Few seconds passing before
its history dawned, the story that it told
and I remembered
without, it should be noted, that familiar ache.
Seeing the sock and hearing
all it had to say
it was as if my mind were noting
Two things at once
and one no longer had to do with the other.
I duly noted, folded, tucked away,
Hid it in the corner
Of a random cart that someone else would use
Who would, perhaps, possess
A random sock of his own
That could use some company.
Assuming, of course,
That socks get lonely.
Like we do
Each time that we are paired
and lost, then found again
A little less than what we were
In some quiet dusty corner
Given just as much thought and puzzling over
Recognizable after our own cycle
Of spinning is done
In far longer than the time
It takes to deal with one week's worth
Of the grime and grit of living.
Needing more than just the choice
Of warm or cold,
Of high heat or low, or just the bracing
Blast of air around us
Somehow we are revived, renewed
And find ourselves
Caught up again in looking for,
Among so many things,
The other, complement and
Partner, without which we are
But half a pair.
The difference being that our
Resilience is borne of
Those things that fall beyond the realm
Of manufacture and man-made
We bring our memory into all that we do
And all we are
And while the endless cycling causes
Fray that leads the socks to start
We are of stronger stuff
That never leaves us and, each time,
That lets us dream
And weave anew the fabric of our lives
and our imaginings
That leads us to
The contemplation of the world
Of lessons learned in even this: the life of
A single sock.
All poems are copyrighted property of Gia Lara.
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