Then, your quiet scrubbing shoulders
as bats fly past outside like broken plates.
I unpeel fish spines, scrape away the skin
and sticky flakes. Our lists are done,
the kitchen’s clean, but the cloying scent
of supper fills the air. Beneath the hiss
of steam, the kettle’s rattle, potatoes claw
inside the cupboards, cheese furs over
and lost scales still glint along the surfaces
in certain lights.
Charlotte Eichler lives in West Yorkshire and has been published in various magazines, including The Rialto, Agenda and The Interpreter’s House. She was shortlisted for the Bridport Prize in 2014. Twitter: @CLEichler