The Single Sock

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A modern fable in verse. Wise Monkey Wrought scroll N.014, "The Single Sock." The sock went into the wash a pair. It came out a philosopher. The other one was not available for comment. Two socks went tumbling, warm and round, into the drum's revolving night. One came back out. One stayed unfound. The maths of laundry was not right. The single sock was put away among the matched, the smug, the whole. It had been half a pair till May. It was a sock without a role. The owner kept it, just in case. The other might come home, one day. It waited, with a patient face, for someone gone the laundry way. In March the other one came back, from behind the dryer, warm and dry. The drawer was searched, the shelf, the rack. The first had gone without goodbye. The lost one came home. The waiting one left. The drawer still holds one sock. Good things come to those who wait. One at a time.