Bio Note: : I am a retired, 35-year English teacher from Georgia. Now that I no longer have piles of papers in my satchel, on my desk, and in my car to be graded, I am writing poetry, my favorite genre to teach while in the classroom. I have been published in Ekphrastic Review, Frost Meadow Review, and One Art.
A Father’s Ringworm Treatment, 1947
They were planets. The small, ring-like blotch on my arm and the growing celestial body on my head. Red flames, one inside the other, garnering daily attention from every family member and from the county’s school and health officials. But his attending was different. He pulled me close to inspect, carefully surveilling the expanding orbit at the crown. Then like an astrophysicist studying mysterious phenomena in far reaches of space, he separated a clump of hair and began removing the single filaments from the waxing ball of fire. I don’t recall words or tears or pain. Just his eyes, blue-gray orbs, determined yet gentle, and his hands, warm, golden in candlelight, as he poured the bottle of Listerine over my head, like a libation to the gods.
©2021 Jo Taylor
Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the author (email address above) to tell her or him. You might say what it is about the poem that moves you. Writing to the author is what builds the community at Verse Virtual. It is very important. -JL