Light moves like a spider, creeping across water and snow and then under the eyelids, where it spreads two webs. Those two webs are the webs of the eyes, fastened to the body as if tied to rafters or grass. Then the image reverses: the eyes send filaments back out onto the water and snow. The speaker seems to feel seeing as a live, fragile connection rather than a passive mirror. The mood is hushed and a bit eerie—intimate but also impersonal, as though the boundary between a person and the landscape is made of threads. The title, “Tattoo,” adds the sense of something tapped or marked into place, though the poem’s touch is very light.
Tattoo — Summary
The light is like a spider. It crawls over the water. It crawls over the edges of the snow. It crawls under your eyelids And spreads its webs there-- Its two webs.
The webs of your eyes Are fastened To the flesh and bones of you As to rafters or grass.
There are filaments of your eyes On the surface of the water And in the edges of the snow.