Doors swing open as action blows its way
Into bright emergency rooms, tornado-ing
Through groups of nurses swapping notes.
‘Heart rate 120, patient unconscious’
Shouts the paramedic, while the wheels
Are screaming on the polished floor.
‘You’re safe now’ a doctor whispers
In her flower ear. But she can see the light
That filters from the ceiling tiles,
And she knows as havoc floods away,
A gentle peace will come her way.
TV doesn’t like an ending like this one
But who’s to stop this little girl
From gently slipping out this way?