Today’s prompt was “text message,” and something popped out at me in some text I was reading this morning. Found poetry adapted from a passage in Chapter XXXVI of Adam Bede, by George Eliot.
Reblogged from the Lexington Poetry Month blog.
The next morning she rose early and set out
walking the road towards Ashby under a leaden
sky with a narrowing streak of yellow
like a departing hope on the edge of the horizon.
It had not yet occurred to her that she might get money
for locket and earrings, and she applied all her small
knowledge calculating how many meals and rides were contained
in two guineas and the odd shillings, which had a melancholy
look of pale ashes to the other bright-flaming coins.