Too Young To Smoke

She steps out for a smoke

Aims clumsy smoke rings

At the mocking moon.

She is not supposed to be here.

She should be studying for her exams

Not making calls for hospital beds.

You’re lucky, they say. Exams are cancelled.

Is it luck, that she feels responsible

For the deaths of people, she can’t save?

An ambulance whizzes past.

Then two, three. Half a dozen.

Sirens merging into a staccato beat.

Ambulances would bring back memories

Of Tatha leaving. His body returning.

Now- she’s just glad a person found a bed

Once, nights meant Netflix.

Not midnight calls. Negotiating for

Ventilator beds and ambulances.

She sighs and stubs out her cigarette.

Too young to smoke, yet

Old enough to know funeral pyres.