The shortest day — now the longest night

The nurses of the hospice show their tired might

By morning exhausted at the end of their bloodying fight

Of looking after an underbelly of defeated humanity

The ragged and the mad, those who did not win a contest of beauty

The poor who fell in between the planks of sanity

To stop the crazy ache

Demanding a pill that cannot be get

People arriving to triage in urgency of various health

Ambulances bringing more patients on the verge of death

So the delay for average wounds is three hours extended

Beyond what now seems a sickly black eternity

While unseen doctors against the epidemic work tirelessly

The shortest day has gone, it’s the longest night

It’s the same as every other dark daily fight

The nurses of the hospice show their tired might

Exhausted at the end of their bloodying short chain

Patiently waiting for their shift and the world to end

Knowing well next time will be a repeat of yesterday’s trend

The seats are comfortable for minutes and torture for sleepless minds

It could have been an insect bite and the necrosis isn’t too fatal

As the old blood pressure measurement machine is unstable

Numbering the lows but ignoring the erratic highs

Of the impatient febrile patient about to have another fit

Unstoppable babble difficult to deal with, in incoherent spit

The silent TV screen shows a deep tragedy near the Titanic wreck

As sample jars of piss and matter faecal come to the front desk

The nurses of the hospice show their tired might

Exhausted by end of their bloodying night 

Patiently waiting for their shift and the world to end

Making sure that on this longest stretch, no one has died

       Robert Urbanoski

       21 june 2023

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