It’s Spring’s mending time
And I find them there
In that overstuffed sock drawer
The holey ones, worn in the heel
The lonely singles who have lost their mates.
The dryer is that something that doesn’t love a sock
Some of the threadbare have gone to the dogs
Happy canines chomping argyle toys.
Just as I chew on a friendship, another kind of darning
Is it time to build a wall or try once again to mend fences?
Free verse, based on Socks and inspired by Mending Wall by Robert Frost (written in blank verse, a style I am not ready to attempt).