Ode To My Socks

Mara Mori brought me
 a pair of socks
 which she knitted herself
 with her sheepherder’s hands, 
two socks as soft as rabbits.
 I slipped my feet into them
 as if they were two cases
 knitted with threads of twilight and goatskin,
violet socks,
 my feet were two fish made of wool, 
two long sharks
 sea blue, shot through
 by one golden thread, 
two immense blackbirds, 
two cannons, 
my feet were honored in this way
 by these heavenly socks.
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