Scarlet scales skip around our words
Like jumping flesh in a whirlpool
The red herring swims to the centre
Pinkening the pull of our sense
We are drawn to its pungent scent
Like moistened dogs' noses
This does not really weigh up
Something about its smell is false
Scales ripple silver to the water's edge
Sequinned gown cast off and shaken
Breathing I see it is here on the banks
All edged with sweet grass
That epiphany of love is born
The kindness of loaves and fishes