In a message dated 8/19/01 4:31:52 PM, [log in to unmask] writes:
<< When I Saw You in Mismatched Socks [like the title]
a tan and a black one [perhaps you could just run this into the
title and say: tan and black]
as you climbed the steps
of a condo, newly carpeted
in white, a pair didn't matter
in your haste to inspect
what Dad and I had plunked
a deposit on. You knew
I was edgy; something didn't fit -
not just the starkness of black
and white tiles and a chipped counter.
Dad had fled to his high desert retreat
unwilling to hear my doubts.
You'd come to circle the wagon, [great image for the masculine]
defend against bandits and bears.
We mounted the stairs, paced
back and forth in stocking feet,
felt the floor's tilt and sway
under the plush our contractor missed.
No musty scent remained. Water damage,
a neighbor confided, when I asked. [nice to have the woman right]
We made it through the fray unscathed.
I was proud of you in unmatched socks,
knew we had paired well. [touching end]
Marilyn Injeyan
August 19, 2001
>>
This poem was certainly written from the heart.
kol tuv, Ryfkah
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