Metamorphosis

Have you ever noticed when doing your wash
That, after the rinsing -- that very last slosh,
That something is missing from out of the flock?
It's that one lonesome item -- that mateless ol' sock!

You can search for it starting from dusk unto dawn
Behind the big chair, or out on the lawn
That sock's just plain "gone away" to a land
Far away, to a place that has yet to be scanned.

That's a nice thought to keep, but quite the untrue,
It is really a-nesting somewhere in the blue.
And strange actions go on through the night and the day,
For there's something arousing that sock's D-N-A.

Slowly it changes one thread at a time.
And goes on changing in that primordial slime,
The threads change to a metal, both steely an blue,
Til that dirty old sock comes out of the brew.

When it has finally changed it's a total new look.
It's rigid and thin with a loop and a hook.
It twists and it turns as it grows and it grows.
It's a shiny new thing -- a hanger for clothes!

So moms, gather round, and you'll soon understand,
The way socks disappear -- out of sight in the land.
But -- you look in the closet and hanging in view,
There's sometimes, no ALWAYS -- more hangers for you.

Copyright; Lee Daniel Quinn
Email: words@iop.com