“An arrest!”
(Shoplifting?)
(Embezzlement?)
(Rape?)
(Murder?)
“No, an arrest.”
Cardiac arrest,
The final detention.
Unless,
With our tools and toys,
And potions and noise,
We can coax his tired heart,
Out of its early retirement.
His eyes, barely seen ‘neath sagging lids,
Seem oh-so-weary (“Let me go”),
His limbs are limp.
His body, thin, warm, vital-appearing still,
Has not received the message,
That what he was has fled:
Dead.
Paula Lyons, MD
First published in The Pharos, Winter 2007 edition