I found the place that has been
holding my missing socks, the grey striped one
and the one with red roses, my hiking sock gone
missing for years and the ones with polka dots,
all my fun socks.
they don't hold the ones with the holes, the ones
that smell bad, that is, most men's socks.
I'm not sure why they call themselves the
missing SOCK, and not the missing sock(s) since
no one is only missing one that has been eaten
by the laundry or somehow disappeared
to places unknown.
I'm just glad they are to be found,
all these missing socks waiting so
patiently for us to show up, if only we knew
that they were waiting on Chestnut Street in