Unmatched Pairs


We have a drawer of socks

Torn from their match in the dryer.

They sit waiting to be reunited with their long-lost match,

The two that were made for one another.

Yet, fate of laundry has separated them for eternity.

We only pretend two mismatched pairs work jut as well.

The reality is they aren’t the same, and one still longs for the other.

Ankle style don’t match striped;

And the Nike sports socks cost more then socks should.

These sit elite, yet incomplete, without a match.

The wonder of where their partner has gone is haunting,

Lost in the black hole of sock heaven,

Forgotten in a gym bag,

Dropped returning from the dryer cycle and becoming the dog’s new friend.

The universe decided their fate,

Without consent,

Without warning,

One minute they’re together,

The next incomplete and lost,

A solo without its match.

By Jamie Baker