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 Once upon a time there was a person
He was walking along
He met the full burning moon
Rolling slowly twoards him
Crushing the stones and houses by the wayside.
She shut his eyes from the glare.
He drew his dagger And stabbed and stabbed and stabbed.
The cry that quit the moon's wounds Circled the earth.
The moon shrank, like a punctured airship, Shrank, shrank, smaller, smaller, Till it was nothing But a silk handkerchief, torn, And wet as tears.
The person picked it up.
He walked on Into moonless night Carrying his strange trophy.

by Ted Hughes
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