she excels at selecting presents,
but although most of my accessories
enjoyed their first days in another place
I am obsessive about my colour scheme,
and I glanced uneasily at the gift-tagged package,
secretly fearing it may be differently shaded;
picturing Indian sequinned purple, or even
a tasteful but innappropriate shade of grey.
I should have had more faith.
star-spangled wrapping lies about my feet,
dampened by tears of appreciation
as I hug the cushion to me
the words “never forget you are loved”
emblazened across it’s crisp fabric
sinking into my torn heart and warming my cheek.
©Jane Paterson Basil