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Paul F. McCann

EMERGENCY EXIT

In a hospital tent where the injured are sent
There’s never enough hours in the day.

There’s no rest for the wicked even less for the good,
and there’s always a high price to pay

Since war had begun the casualties come
in a steady flow at the emergency door.

No one reimburses the doctors and nurses for all the hours
they spend on the floor.

Waves of apprehension built a bridge through the tension
as the incoming wounded arrived.

For carried on stretchers from the Red Cross ambulances
are some soldiers barely alive.

Pack and swab,
Oh dear God it’s a hell of a job,
with no rest for the medical crew.

Some were chosen to survive the explosion
yet the operation they never saw through.

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