by Simon Armitage

It’s evening again, late.
I go out into the lane
and doodle a beard and mustache
on the face of the moon
with a red pen.

Over the next hill
an old teacher of mine
takes off her glasses
and wipes the lenses with a soft cloth.
She can’t believe
what she’s just seen.

2017, The Unaccompanied

Last updated May 12, 2019