•   October 29 2015 // poetry   •

A new poem 



Sometimes I joke my grandma
is one day older than me,
and we play at being balanced.

Because we’re written in the stars,
there is nothing to do but drink tea
from her zodiac mugs;

nothing to fix, nothing to prove.
Whatever I hold in my left hand
also appears in my right.

I am a slave to the scales.
To their cold round hands;
to their hard square digits;

to the two silver fish
born too deep in winter
to grasp what makes an equilibrium.

Sometimes, Grandma and I
pretend we understand our horoscope.
She wants to know that today

is a day of opportunities.
I want to know that I’m indecisive
so that I can be indecisive.

Spinning above us
is her past and my future,
exact in equivalence.



Flora de Falbe comes from London and is studying English at Cambridge. She was a Foyle Young Poet in 2011 and 2012, and took part in the 2014 Tower Poetry Summer School. She has read at the Ledbury and Wenlock poetry festivals, and has work published by CAKE, Ambit and The Emma Press.