Midnight in the Hospital
It's midnight in the hospital:
Reception's long-since closed.
The cafeteria as well
has given up the ghost.
When Bed nine (cancer) rings the bell
ward sister bolts her toast.
It's busy still in A and E,
the staff close to defeat
but, five doors down, the pharmacy
lies vacant, locked and neat.
Two bodies in the pharmacy
quite slowly lose their heat.
And as the day ends on the ward
the patients lie in rows:
some are frightened, some are bored
and some -well, heaven knows.
As Bed nine (cancer) tugs the cord
the curtains round her close.

Kevin Saving

If you have any comments on this poem, Kevin Saving would be pleased to hear from you.