Black Sock Society

For Kristina and Tim

When my head is more shiny than grey
I shall wear khaki shorts and black socks
that rest unevenly on my calves.
I shall spend my retirement
on coffee and biscuits,
and flirt with every waitress.

In the summertime, I shall wear sandals
with my black socks as I roam the town
searching for a part-time gig
to get me out of the house

and pay for healthcare.

I shall buy wind chimes for my wife,
and wear earplugs when I sneak outside
for an afternoon cigar.

If you catch me on the right day,
I will tell you a story
about a young man
with thick black hair
who walked on dirt roads
instead of sidewalks.

A man who dreamed of the future,
but rarely the past,
and chuckled from beneath his hat
to warm the chill in his bones
when first he saw a pair
of black socks peeping

from the trouser leg
of a charming old man.

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