Wool sock frayed and worn;
just now, a hole appears at the heel.
Instinct tells me to throw it out.
Somehow, I cannot.
Like habits that have worn on and on,
beyond the particular usefulness once served,
I cling to that wool sock
remembering journeys made together.
Of paths traveled,
this present one most joyful.
frayed and worn,
What it lacks in usefulness
more than made up for in history.
Kathy L. Arens