Socks

 

The white socks were turning tan

from being horribly abused every day

and washed with a bar of soap

every night for months. I laid them

across the heating vent in the winter

and over the shower curtain rod

the rest of the time. They rarely dried

completely, made my feet and shoes

smell like mildew, and finally got

too many holes in the heels and toes.

I threw them out, panicked,

put on my shoes and walked

to Bargain City where I opened

a pack of socks, put three pairs on,

painfully crammed my feet into my shoes

and walked out. I was not proud

of my first theft, but I had no money,

no socks and no magic beans to grow any.

They lasted the rest of the school year,

then I gave them

to my brother.