Trouble Afoot
written by: Carl “Papa” Palmer
The wet white sock looks like a snowball
melting on the ground my side of the sidewalk
perhaps providing clue to the lost mate mystery
Mom mentioned every wash day Wednesday
sorting clothes at our farmhouse on Old Mill Road.
Like a brown shadow, sitting in paired partnership,
the nylon stocking, sultry foot cover companion,
cohorts in crime, fleeing from last night’s Halloween
heist, Bonnie abetting Clyde, discarding disguises while
police with whistles gave chase through my cul-de-sac.
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