Jane commented on my socks.
I saw them as black,
she said one was gray
and other was black,
and that made them wrong.
I only saw the alternate toe design,
one with a white grid, the other without,
so I suppose that made them different.
But when I put my sneakers on and stood,
none of this mattered.
Just a small strip of black between
the top of my shoes and
the bottom of my jeans.
By then, Jane forgot about
my sartorial inelegance
as I slipped my plaid tweed jacket
over a striped shirt
and we walked out into the July sun.