I threw my socks

by Michael Estabrook

I was so mad (I forget what about)
that when I got home and began
undressing I took off
my socks and threw them,
not at anyone,
simply threw them on the bed.
Yes, I threw my socks. They didn’t even
make a sound as they landed
like dreams on the bedspread.
And there was a time
when I was a fairly respectable
weightlifter and took karate,
and I was a gymnast too and am still
a strong swimmer. What has become of me?
I wonder what I’ll throw
ten years from now when I get mad.

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~ This piece was posted on Tuesday, January 15th, 2008 and was filed under Writing, Poetry. You can make comments on it below. ~