The Tattoo
10 August, 2003
Author: Mark Spencer
Madison turned ninety three
In two thousand sixty five.
And every morning when she woke,
She was surprised to be alive.
Her great grandson Jonathan
Came to visit once each week.
To help her out around the house
And so the two of them could speak.
One day Jonathan noticed
A mark on his grandma's leg.
It had many faded colors
And looked like an Easter egg.
So out of curiosity,
He asked her what it might be.
She said this is the tattoo
I got when I was twenty three.
Because everybody had them,
And we all thought they were cool,
I got myself a little robin
For my youth made me a fool.
By the time I turned fifty,
The image had rearranged.
The robin became a rooster,
The tattoo completely changed.
And then when I was sixty five
It began to change again.
It was no longer a rooster,
It looked like a baby hen.
If I had it to do over,
I wouldn't make the same mistake.
I never would have gotten it,
Had I known the shape it would take.
And now you see its final stage,
What it has evolved into
A silly looking Easter egg,
Is what I have for a tattoo.
Then Johnny started laughing,
At the tattoo on her leg.
He said, now we know which came first,
It was the chicken, and then the egg.
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Comments on this poem/writing:
Mark Spencer (64.12.96.47) -- Thursday, August 14 2003, 11:33 pm When the skin loses its elasticity and begins to wrinkle and droop, what will your flower or butterfly look like? Will it still be a flower, or will it look more like a weed? |
Wayfarer (172.195.19.240) -- Wednesday, August 20 2003, 10:49 am They certainly don't look like they start out. I like the chicken and the egg twist. |
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