— Judith Patterson
Ode to My Socks
those loyal companions, always disappearing like
my motivation on a Monday morning.
Oh, Pablo forgive me—but before love, before bread, before elemental
mysteries of the Universe, I have my socks, quietly performing daily
miracles at ankle level.
Ah, socks deserve their own epic. Neruda opened the door; I get to
redecorate the room.
O socks, soft conspirators of the morning,
you wait collapsed like tired clouds
until my feet slide in
and you remember your purpose.You know the geography of me—
the tender heel,
the rebellious toe
that refuses alignment.
You have survived dryers
that eat your kin,
long days pretending to be shoes,
and the sharp betrayal of pebbles.
You accept the smell of honest work
without complaint
and ask only to be washed
and reunited with your twin.
A tragic comedy for some socks
Who lost their mate; gone; disappeared,
Satire and nostalgia all in one
In winter you are mercy;
In summer, quiet optimism.
At night you peel away
without drama,
falling to the floor like punctuation—
a period at the end of a walking day
What gift do you give me, an old lady?
An Ode to Old Age
Prompt: Terza rimes Cathy Greenwood: 2-20-26
Being old, I stand within a hopeful stage,
A doorway opening on altered light;
New questions written on a wiser page.
The sun has shifted — slants itself more slight,
Past solstice now, it leans in amber glow;
Yet still it burns with fierce and stubborn might.
To age is not to fade, but still to grow,
An urgency to live the time that’s left,
To gather meaning only years bestow.
Though independence loosens, torn and cleft,
And health may falter, strength grow thin and spare,
The soul is not so easily bereft.
Society averts its practiced stare
From sagging flesh and calendars grown thin;
But I insist on presence, fully there.
Art rises, shock of green beneath the skin,
Young as first breath, defiant in its spark;
Fresh energies come flooding in.
I weave my life — bright threads against the dark —
A tapestry with rents and jagged seams,
Where love repairs what time has left its mark.
When finished, I shall wrap you all in my dreams —
Family, Friends and Art— this woven grace;
Its colors brighter than they sometimes seem.
Judy K. Patterson is a longtime OLLI member and an artist. She is also longtime member of Tampa Bay Great Books and has taken many OLLI classes, particularly literature and poetry courses. She is active in a poetry group. She recently joined Operatunity SIG and is a member of the Talking Movies SIG.
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