remedy

by Bex Hainsworth

I come home    for half-term,
              beset by a fury of    germs.

      Heaving over the sink,
I cough          up little yolks
of yellow phlegm. 

My chest crackles     and hisses.

                 Ever the apothecary,
      my mother    boils the kettle
for peppermint tea,

assembles vials.     I read the labels:
thyme and ginger and mallow root.

     Behind the bathroom door,
             I gulp down Night Nurse
     and paracetamol,

but then let myself be
sofa-swaddled with witch’s brew
            and menthol fumes.

It's been fifteen years since I allowed
her fussing, but now we both indulge.

I can’t say which balm soothes the burn.

When she slips teabags into my suitcase,
           I smile, hold close her charms.

Photo of Bex Hainsworth

BIO: Bex Hainsworth is a poet and teacher based in Leicester, UK. She won the Collection HQ Prize as part of the East Riding Festival of Words and her work has appeared in Nimrod, Columbia Journal, The McNeese Review, Sonora Review, and trampset. She is the author of two pamphlets: Walrussey (The Black Cat Poetry Press, 2023) and Circulaire (Written Off Publishing, 2025). Twitter @PoetBex / Instagram @poet.bex