by Jim Ross
When Z was Just the Beginning
I always liked the words zephyr
and zipper, which tickled the tip
of my tongue. On frozen gray
days in Mississippi winters, I
stood beside Choctaw Creek &
pulled the zipper of my coat up
to my throat, then down to my belt
line, catching Zephyr’s breath, then up
again – a simple science investigation
that morphed into timing & collecting
data & asking Miss Fitzpatrick
what it meant. What prompted you
to do it? she asked. Did you have
a question in your sweet head, or
were you doing it for fun? I do al-
most everything for fun. There was
research & history in her eyes. Zeph-
yr: Greek god of the west wind, the
gentlest wind, especially compared
to the cold bite of Boreas, the north
wind. I sighed. Zephyr: the father
of two immortal horses – Xanthus &
Balius. I told her I was late for Cub
Scouts, zipped up my coat & ran away.
That John Dorroh eats liver once a week to boost his iron levels should not be held against him. The fact that he admits it should be. Two of his poems were nominated for Best of the Net. Scores of others appeared in diverse journals such as Os Pressan, Selcouth Station, Pinyon, Feral, River Heron, Moss Puppy, & boats against the current. He’s had two chapbooks published, Swim at Your Own Risk and Personal Ad Poetry. He also writes short fiction, essays, & the occasional rant. He writes from Highland, Illinois but his heart is elsewhere. Twitter @DorrohJohn
Jim Ross jumped into creative pursuits in 2015 after a rewarding research career. With a graduate degree from Howard University, in seven years he’s published nonfiction, fiction, poetry, photography, hybrid, and plays in over 175 journals on five continents. Photo publications include Barren, Burningword, Camas, DASH, Kestrel, Litro, Feral, Stonecoast, Sweet, and Typehouse. Jim and his family split time between city and mountains.