NaPoWriMo Prompt: So today, I challenge you to write about money! It could be about not having enough, having too much (a nice kind of problem to have), the smell, or feel, or sensory aspects of money. It could also just be a poem about how we decide what has value or worth.
At home she sees kids on the street everyday,
but here in Paris, with the Eiffel Tower
shining over her shoulder,
she can’t watch them sitting, hands outstretched.
She asks for a euro, thinking perhaps, it equals a quarter.
I don’t tell her it’s more than a dollar.
“Tonight is too cold for someone to sleep hungry,” she says,
and I am filled with the light of her
as she bends, dark hair swooping over her face,
dropping the coin into his waiting palm.