Manila Cough

• Alyssa Gilbert, Grade 11
• Poetry
• 2018

The lights are blinking at me,
All of them in a different pattern.
Before this, coconut trees waved goodbye.
The soft wind encouraging their slow motion.
The metal bird spreads its wings, ready to fly off to a place where smog is barely existent.
A place where western comforts come with little gratitude.
A place where pollution doesn't invade fragile bodies.
However, the smell of burning rice and plastic is somehow missed.
The sight of loved ones whose end is nearing, is much needed.
A wish is made.
Please,
One more memory.
I beg for one that won't fade away like the smoke from the blazing fields.
Every time a cough erupts from within my body, this is what I'll be thinking of.
My trigger thoughts,
Courtesy of my Manila Cough.