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The Sock Puppet

by Bill West

Snow came,
the power failed.
I lit a candle, cupped
the flame and went down
to the cellar to tend the stove.

Warmth and memories still
resided there amongst
fragments of a life.

Amidst childish things I
found a sock innocuous in its
oddity except for the
button eyes sewn securely
with flaxen thread.

Animated, it turned,
fixed me with crooked
eyes, and seemed to smile.

Memories unbidden came:
hide and seek, collecting shells
on the beach, blanket forts,
too many sweets, reading
by torchlight under the sheets.

When the lights returned,
I climbed the stairs, illuminated,
shouldering my childhood friend.


Copyright © 2023 by Bill West

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