Small colour botanical tattoo of a yellow daffodil with green stem and leaves on the inside of a forearm, with the hand raised against a yellow background.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Daffodil tattoo on a forearm

Botanical · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A small daffodil with a yellow bloom and green stem and leaves sits on the inner forearm of a raised arm. The linework is thin and dark, with simple flat fills of yellow and green. The plain yellow backdrop makes the flower stand out, and the tattoo sits in the lower half of the frame beneath the hand.

Botanical Fine line Forearm Daffodil Flower Stem Leaves

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The tyre has been sighing since the last town, and by the time you ease the car onto the shoulder the sun is already leaning on the ridge. Nothing out here should be yellow. The desert has spent three years refusing rain, yet at the foot of a cracked embankment, where the road bends north, a single daffodil stands upright as if someone had posted it there.

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You crouch in the grit and look at it for a long while. Its bloom is the colour of lemon peel held up to a window, the stem thin and green, two leaves curling out like hands that have forgotten what they were holding. Someone once told you daffodils come up wherever a garden used to be, that they outlast the houses. You wonder which house this was, and how many years it has waited for a storm to give it reason.

You change the tyre anyway, sweating through your shirt, and when you finish you find you cannot leave the flower behind. You cut it with the penknife from the glovebox, wrap the stem in a wet paper towel from the cooler, and lay it on the dashboard like a passenger who has paid their fare. Forty miles on, the air conditioning hums, the radio dies into static, and the petals keep their colour against the brown hills.

At the motel in Sayer's Flat the night clerk asks what you are carrying. You fill a tumbler at the tap and stand the stem in it beside the bed. By morning it is still upright, the only yellow thing for fifty miles, and you drive out with the window down so it can see where you are going.