The Truth About The Sock Monster Sonnet #48 Poem by Stephanie Eve Kane Arado

While hitting the snooze button, my warm socks
Took a hike. Tired of waiting, they left
To meet cotton friends at the sound of cocks
Crowing coarsely on farms far from town theft
Colorful odds gather in large circles
Tied together by a common fabric
New, worn and patterned, their threads weave purples
Reds, greens and blues rivaling nature’s pick
Rainbows dyed and stained, odd-shaped revelers
Rediscover their roots close to ground, field
Before mankind made their origins blur
In ritual their history’s revealed
When you think the sock monster steals cotton
Recall attempts to find roots forgotten