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.
Day 7
Money
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.
I love this poem! Such tenderness, both in the girl and in the poet, watching.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Ruth. Such a pleasure to have you reading my work!
ReplyDeleteThis one really touches me. I love it when you include a quote. Somehow that is so evocative, so telling. Those final lines, "I am filled with the light of her/as she bends, dark hair swooping over her face/dropping the coin into his waiting palm." are like a piece of art, a painting. I can see it, exactly. Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteMichelle, I don't know why I never got this comment until now, but I'm glad I finally found this! Thank you so much for this.
ReplyDelete