he liked his handsome face

Ted Hughes

walked away with a half-filled glass

of warm beer,

slowing to offer a sip to the young lady writing

her life story while standing

with sharpened pencil

at a corner of the neighborhood pub.

she initially wanted her own glass,

but intuitively knew that wouldn't be allowed;

she finished her final sentence by taking

a lonely, deep breath.

when word got out that Ted left the bar

without reading her entire story,

local people were initially disappointed in him.

with his handsome face mimicking honesty,

he soon explained that he wasn't

really interested in her writing.

too many references, he said,

to her dad and unresolved issues that were

beyond him.

he liked nature without the scars.

he liked his warm beer.

he liked his handsome face.

he most of all liked his own writing.