Good Night

Mum liked quiet children,
silent bodies,
no vomiting, no wheezing

I knew how to breathe through
an upset stomach
but asthma came at night

uninvited, a whistle-blower
in my lungs telling my throat
to snap shut.

To avoid being kept awake
by my racket
she fed me ‘ephredine’:

instead of being short of breath
I woke drenched in sweat
to see her ghost looming

 

 

Sally Michaelson is a full time conference interpreter in Brussels and mum to a son and daughter. She writes poetry in her spare time and has been published in Lighthouse