Something borrowed ...


Christmas Stocking

I found it in the washing machine
After your last stopover;
It was soaking wet,
Trapped just inside
The rubber door seal,
The last laundry of
The Monday wash;
I squeezed it like an orange,
Wet my shoes in the process,
Put your little sock to dry
On the mantlepiece over
The lounge fire and watched
It uncurl into fine hosiery,
Pink and white hoops,
The colour of candyfloss,
Of cherished childhood;
If I find its mate I'll
Make a pair again,
But in the meantime
It can stay hanging
On the mantlepiece,
Ready for Christmas,
Just big enough for
A tangerine, a walnut,
A granddaughter's love.


Chris Fernie, 2006




Poetry by Chris Fernie
Read 397 times
Written on 2006-12-06 at 11:11

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