Poetry Corner

Camp Nurse

By Jim Farfaglia

 

Looking back

she must’ve been fresh out of college,

sporting a camp T-shirt and shorts

– no starched whites and cap for her –

as she checked each of us in

with her free-flowing smile.

 

At the first campfire

I found out she liked to sing,

and to my restless ears

she had the sweetest contralto,

offering Baez and Dylan

over flickering flames…

 

Which is why,

more than a few nights that season,

I faked illness right around bedtime.

She’d check my temperature,

run through her questions,

then – like the wise nurse she was becoming –

she’d offer the perfect remedy

in song.

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