Odd Socks Options

[Guest_Nina_*]

Odd Socks (revised)

A pair of odd socks
tucked in a drawer:
one blue,
one black flecked with white;
long ill-matched;
hidden in darkness,
never proudly displayed.

I should separate them;
initiate search for their mates.
Yet something stops me -
fear of change?
loneliness worries?
habit?

I’ve grown used to them paired,
so they lie
folded together;
one blue,
one black  flecked with white;
growing old
trapped.


-------------------------------------
Odd Socks (original)

A pair of odd socks
tucked in a drawer:
one blue,
one black, flecked with white;
ill-matched for so long;
hiding in darkness
never proudly displayed.

I should separate them;
initiate search for their mate.
Yet something stops me -
fear for change?
thoughts of loneliness?
habit?

I’ve grown used to seeing them paired,
so there they lie
folded together;
one blue,
one black, flecked with white;
gathering dust,
growing old.

[Guest_to-be-continued_*]

Odd Socks

A pair of odd socks
tucked in a drawer:
one blue,
one black, flecked with white;
ill-matched for so long;
hiding in darkness
never proudly displayed.

I should separate them;
initiate search for their mate.
Yet something stops me -
fear for change?
thoughts of loneliness?
habit?

I’ve grown used to seeing them paired,
so there they lie
folded together;
one blue,
one black, flecked with white;
gathering dust,
growing old.

Dear Nina,

This is my first attempt at “critting” , so I am actually nervous!  Hope I don’t make you nervous, dismayed, enraged, or in any other way ready to pull your hair out!  

I love this poem!  It’s a real keeper!    By the end it has expanded to that  metaphorical meaning which is what keeps me reading poetry in the first place!  I just love it when that happens in a poem.

It is sad because couples are, to me, always a pairing of  “odd socks“.  It definitely left me with the sweet ache of recognition. If it were socks of different sizes as well as colors…but, thankfully, it is not.  With the line, “I’ve grown used to seeing them paired” it is, for me, as if the narrator could be a relative looking on, perhaps a teenaged or adult child.  The way you begin the poem with the irony (?) of “A pair of odd socks”, starts right then and there to coax me toward the ah-ha experience of recognizing something other than socks.

Be that as it may, I will give you a few comments on the body of the poem in hopes that they will be helpful.  

 Would you consider leaving out “fear for [of] change?/thoughts of loneliness?/habit?”?  It takes me away from the socks as if the narrator were blocking my path.

I like the repetition of “one blue,/one black, flecked with white” in the last stanza. In my opinion, it kind of elevates the language (and thus the subject) in the same way that repetition does in some of the Psalms in the Bible.  Be that as it may, the “flecked with white” is inspired!  

Could “I should separate them” be “I could separate them”?

Could it be “initiate a search…”?

Could “so there they lie” become “so they lie there”?

I feel as though “never proudly displayed” needs chewing on but can’t really say why.   :p  Could it be left out?  Ditto for “gathering dust” (but, then again, I like the two “g“ sounds!).  How’s the title doing amid all this playing with the language?

Of course, I’ve had the experience of cutting too much from a poem and thereby wrecking it!  :angry:   Have you?  Here is how it might look like with the changes (do you like it when people DO this?!  Please let me know.)

A pair of odd socks
tucked in a drawer:
one blue,
one black, flecked with white;
ill-matched for so long;
hiding in darkness.

I could separate them;
initiate a search for their mate.
Yet something stops me -

I’ve grown used to seeing them paired,
so they lie there
folded together;
one blue,
one black, flecked with white;
gathering dust,
growing old.

Way to go, Nina!  You inspired me and took me on a journey with this poem.  Thanks!  

2B