Friends close, enemies closer,
and your gifts close right in
round my throat, bite my ear-lobes
that bit too hard, which is fine,
lest we forget – at least I’ll know
I’m wearing them; no risk
that they’ll slide off, unnoticed,
as they brush against my hood
on a frosty night.  Like you,
they’re always there.  And pretty, too.



Annette Volfing