Tattoo Anniversary

Free Verse ReVolution

Some days
bury themselves in skin,
tribal patterns of a happily ever after

an old man’s skin will
try to stretch.

Some
events are inked into your being
long past years they last
provided you
meaning,

names of the dead
outlived by a mile;

wisdoms of
the time compiled in
Eastern characters and devil’s
caricatures.

Their naivete makes me
smile.

I’m older
and confess I stopped tracking
four leaf
clovers in the wild.

Old errors of a
child, spurning the
rank and file,

like the longest trials had
come to pass.

That stupidity gets a
little laugh,

but the beauty attached to
them shines,
encapsulates this youth
of mine.

On a notebook of flesh,
just four
breaths long,
my mother’s sacrilege,

ten years
on.

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