Poetry Bus 3/21/11

 The challenge is to go somewhere we have never
been before and write about it.
  Yesterday, I walked a slow cubic path
into the back room of a popular Tavern
for a Surprise Party and Brunch.

I sat with four ladies I had never met.
After introductions,Marta
began by unveiling her tattoos.

Down below the sleeve line
a long horn skull spread out
over her right bicep.

White and red flowers
and vines banded her left arm.
Each had a story and related to someone.

I reflected that tiny, subtle
brown crosses or muted blue dots,
were all I could conceive of
if tattoos were required decor.

Migratory patterns of a life,
a long path,beads of homage
to birds, fish, game I have eaten,
might trail along the edge
of a collar bone.

Tiny symbols of art or poets
might tiptoe single file
etching with a few little beads
along tendons.

They might after long living,
encompass shadow lines
along most of a body.