Three am

my mother was depressed

She stayed in her bathrobe, of black and gold

All day until it was nearly time 

For my father to come home from work

She walked around the house

This house is too big to keep clean

She said so she never made the bed

In the master bedroom

And the television would be on all day

I don think she ever wanted children

I was the failure of a diaphragm and foam she said

At three am I am in her bed

I can't breath from athsma

I am waiting for a ride to the emergency room

The shot of adrenaline 

My breathing

It's like riding a bike up a steep hill

With each breath a turn of the wheel 

Slowly she goes to the closet

Wiggles into her girdle

Puts on her bra

Each breath is like sucking on a milkshake but it is not sweet

I pull each breath through the sludge

Then she puts on her slip

Her blouse 

Then the green suit I know so well

Her high heels and red lipstick

I watch the road to the ER

Almost there I say to the road

Almost there I say to the bridge

'Relax" an orderly yells at me

In the old days they thought that

Asthma was mental

After the shot they monitor me

My mothers reads me stories from 

Redbook magazine

When I was sick

I had her attention

THIS IS WHY I LOVE HOSPITALS

something as simple as breathing

Can go wrong

Some Mothers may only show you they love you

When they take you to the emergency room