Bed Socks

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Summer in Duluth.

The sun’s finally here.

It’s about dang time.

Winter hurt this year.

But change is so hard.

My wife is so sweet,

but she cannot stand

no socks on her feet.

I don’t mean when she’s

walking around town.

I’m talking about

when she goes to lie down.

Murmurs and mumbles.

What is she saying?

She’s holding some socks.

Seems like she’s praying.

“Do I dare try to

lay down my tired head

without my dear socks

when I go to bed?”

She gives it a try

with bare naked feet.

But soon she sits up

and throws back the sheet.

Ten months in a row

She’s covered her toes.

They cannot be free.

That’s just how it goes.

She pulls on the socks

and she lies back down.

She’s wearing a smile

instead of a frown.

I’m dripping with sweat

in the summer heat

but she needs bed socks

wrapped around her feet.

(Published in Poetry Corner, Duluth News Tribune, 18 Aug 2013)

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About Eric Chandler

Husband. Father. Pilot. Cross Country Skier. Writer. Author of Outside Duluth and Down In It.
This entry was posted in Writing. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Bed Socks

  1. Pingback: This Poem Sucks. | SHMOTOWN

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