I found a stocking under the bedside table
one of those knee-high ones that aren't real stockings
and cast no glamour
shed shrivelled
like a tiny proboscis
in that corner
where it crumpled
among some bits of glass from something broken
with the dust of her skin in the gauze
jules bulman
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-found-a-stocking-under-the-bedside-table/
