Day 18: Yellow

Outside the old quarter, Margaret and Tilly were walking down the steep hill.
The toothless one sucked on a hard boiled egg and Tilly munched on almonds.
The smell of their sweat mixed with the woodsmoke of the fire and the grill.
The wealth of Lincoln lay in its commerce and Margaret and Tilly sold cloth,
The ‘green’ and the ‘scarlet’ on sale by the market, bartered for the weavers.
They idled by the tavern and bought beer and bread and supped it with some broth.
Margaret’s toothless grin was wide as the Witham as she counted the money.
Copper coins and silver jingled in her apron and weighed the leather down.
She wiped across her mouth and winked at Tilly. Her grubby hand brought out the ‘honey’.
Out of the second pocket the yellow coins came clenched in her fist grimy and smelly.
They had had a good day, their husbands would be happy. The sovereigns clinked together.
Margaret hid them deep back in the pouch and grinned, “Today we have a yellow belly.”

Perhaps cream rather than yellow, watercolour roses an experiment in subtlety


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