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My guardian
I woke with a bolt. But mother was there.
Smiling and rocking while I gasped for air.
She sat in the dark where I knew shed be;
Reading and watching over me.
I had stopped breathing in my sleep;
Asthma will do that when sleep is deep.
She’s always known to waken me;
When asthmas almost taken me.
She used to smoke 3 packs a day.
She blames herself Im sad to say;
I know one night shell come too late;
But Ill be glad to stay and wait;
Exactly as shes done for me;
Since her death in 63.
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