My Tribute
Came of age wearing
Polyester leisure suits,
Puka shell necklaces,
And platform shoes.
Now any permanent fashion statement
Seems a bad idea.
Thankfully, I could shed those
Tacky, trendy fashions,
And cut that out-of-control hair,
But a tattoo I would have been stuck with
For life.
What could I have
Permanently
Inked onto my body
That I would never regret?
A barbed wire arm band?
A motorcycle brand?
A catchy saying?
Nope. Nope. Nope.
So I did not approve of my kid’s
Tattoos or piercings.
She never asked my opinion,
I never said a word,
But no doubt she knew.
She was too smart to miss the unspoken.
Most of her tattoos were hidden
Where her Dad
Could not see them.
For that I was thankful.
How many? I have no idea.
Now that she is gone,
I try to think of something
I could buy or build or create
That would be a permanent memorial to her?
A painting? A sculpture? A song? A poem? A piece of jewelry?
She will be shocked
And amused, I think,
When I show up
On the other side of Jordan
With an inked tribute to her
Tattooed on my arm.
9 thoughts on "My Tribute"
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A heartfelt resolution to your tribute.
beautifully developed, such a clear tone
This poem moved me more than I can say. Thank you for writing this.
A moving tribute, and wonderful explanation of how we all change. thanks for sharing.
Beautiful and generous message. Also, I have a tattoo artist recommendation in Lex for you. ❤️
I want it!
This is very beautiful and powerful.
“On the other side of Jordan,” Yes, that’s it.
Oh, Wayne. The skillful way you thread your own path of becoming in this lovely elegy for your child is beautiful. I can imagine easily your embrace with her “on the other side of Jordan.”