A present:
tall, starch and stiff
in the shape of a narrow tower,
for Christmas is here again
and my throat is as neat as a tight bow.
Sitting for dinner
squeaking air from crannies to make conversation,
Despite the beer, no free flow of mirth and cheer
drama free, but simmering feelings and expectations
biting to the surface.
-December 2011
felicity "fee" doyle 