Thirteen hours into a thirty-eight hour shift.
I'm not sure if my day has begun or my night has ended.
It's 0610 hrs, the sun a few minutes away
Waiting to take the darkness

In a forth floor apartment contractions start.
Five children, all under five years old wake to screams
Another is about to join them
Her water breaks just as the sun rises

The door is locked
The baby is born
We climb the stairs to cut the cord
And welcome a baby girl into the world.


Three hours later a grieving widow sits in a limo.
Her husband lies in his casket a few miles away.
The funeral must wait, another problem arises,
As a car crashes into the funeral procession.

She's hurt, but refuses to go.
You only bury you husband once.
We help her to the funeral home and wheel her in
Past the casket, the preacher never stops.

She sits on our stair chair,
The cervical collar digging into her skin
And listens
As her husband is laid to rest.


It's a little past noon
One enters, one leaves
One holds onto the miracle in her arms
As the other lets hers go.