Waiting for an Emergency

There’s too many of us;
so much so
that we no longer understand
each other’s pain.
Even our laughter is drowned
out by the trivial rats
who scurry beneath our feet
as we tread not so carefully.
We are capable of dances,
light humour and distractions.
We are privileged by this
yet we waste it.

For just this once,
I hate to drop the mood,
but I sit on the sofa,
Sarah is lying on the floor
waiting for a doctor to arrive
so that the worry and pain
in this house can cease…

It is hard to read of the dances,
light humour and distractions
when you’re waiting for this country’s
new definition of emergency
to arrive so that the night
can finally grow old
whilst mortality is amongst the both of us
in abundance…
even the leaking, dark skies
seem too warm in contrast
to this six hour wait.

It is all too clear;
we no longer understand
each other’s pain

amongst other things.