Socks

I got wicked annoyed today because my right sock had a huge hole in the heel. I hate that. It was really bugging ms so I dug through my drawers, in this case an antique seed cabinet in my office that still has some turn of the century seeds in it, and found a needle and thread and sewed the sucker up. I sewed it; I did not darn it. That, of course reminded me of this:

Society

I have a darning egg
from the nineteenth century.
To the uninitiated it appears to be
no more than a tiny wooden dumbbell
with unequal ends. A cretin, a freak.
It is antiquated as well as antique.
Useless. Today's socks
are not worth mending.

SP 1983