Bashō's Road

to the small poem and the quiet voice within

jane kenyon | the socks

The Socks

While you were away
I matched your socks
and rolled them into balls.
Then I filled your drawers with
tight dark fists.


  1. And before rolling and stuffing into the top drawer, grandmothers darned them… and sometimes damned
    the men who wore them out!

  2. Ok – I get it; just don’t fold my underwear.

  3. Oh, wonderful Jane Kenyon—wish you were still on earth writing your perceptive poems! I think the great thing about this short work is the way it opens itself to multi interpretations. I think the anger is about fate and whatever has taken the sock owner away.

  4. It reminds me of Yehuda Amichai’s poem,

    A Dog After Love

    After you left me
    I let a dog smell at
    My chest and my belly. It will fill its nose
    And set out to find you.

    I hope it will tear the
    Testicles of your lover and bite off his penis
    Or at least
    Will bring me your stockings between his teeth.

  5. Ah, Jane Kenyon-I miss her so. Thanks the poet gods for books.

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