I Wear My Dead Father’s Socks
They do not guide my steps like
his quiet and steady words,
but they comfort my feet.
They don’t struggle
to stretch around the girth of
thickening calves and ankles,
leaving deep impressions
that fade only as I sleep.
And they are not weathered
nor weakened by gravity,
tearing with just a tug
as holes grow after
every step that’s taken.
They’re my socks now,
filling empty spaces
in a chaotic drawer,
pairs and orphans wedged tight
as if they know one day
they, too, will be lost in
between desert and sea,
or disappear into
the deep recesses
of a dimly lit laundry room.
….
This poem is from the book Dancing on the X by Todd Williams (Finishing Line Press), and can be found at https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/dancing-on-the-x-by-todd-williams/
Todd Williams is a former South Dakota journalist who worked in newspapers for 25 years before moving to work in the Middle East. He began writing poetry following his father’s death in 2017, publishing his first poems in late 2019. Since, he has since published a number of poems in various online and print magazines and anthologies. In 2021, Williams won the South Dakota State Poetry Society’s annual chapbook for his “Objects in the Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear.”
The Paddock Review 