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.