A poem about scales

The flame is a scale held to the light.
It flickers in petition. It bids us to reignite
some salacity already gutted from our life.

red herring

Yes, that last line is akin to a title. I remembered that Debussy does likewise in his Préludes.

At the moment I am swimming with the red herrings. There’s perhaps another poem in that, though I have been imagining a fantastical puppet show. “Swimming with Red Herrings” would involve fire-eaters and tea-lights. There would have to be a pond on stage.

My grocery list of current cravings includes asparagus, scrambled eggs, real sheep and goat’s milk feta and the freshest pita bread from my local Greek-Cypriot grocer (Tony’s, incidentally). For some reason, I can’t get these items off my mind.

Preview my first volume of poetry, Shining in Brightness here. Follow me as @BeadedQuill on Twitter. Find BeadedQuill on Facebook.

Published by BeadedQuill

Author of over 300 poems, also books, essays and short stories. Published in the Johannesburg Review of Books, Carapace and Type/Cast. BeadedQuill's titles are for sale via Blurb.co.uk

4 thoughts on “A poem about scales

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