Tattoos – A Poem
I tried to take rubbings of his tattoos-the hula girl, the palm trees, the sailing ship, the crossed cannons, the anchor. The hula girl danced for me when he flexed his forearm. He never told me where he’d got them. He was in the war when he was eighteen, and he was an old man when he came home at twenty. His ships pulled into … Continue reading Tattoos – A Poem