It must have rained
when she taught us.
There must have been
foggy mornings,
London damp and dismal
and the street lamps
fading out of sight.
But I remember only
sunlight on wooden desks;
and how I laid my head
on my arms and watched her
while she read to us,
the only time I remember
any grown-up
reading aloud to me;
and how I would have
given her a silver apple
if I had had one.


(First published in Ship of Fools)