The Temeraire
by Bethany Egan
I could see the Temeraire being brought in to be dismantled,
the ship I worked on for years, the ship I lost so many on.
Compared to the Temeraire, the tug pulling it was like an old
stray dog, something nobody wanted, and never would.
The Temeraire shone like a golden ship, studded with diamonds,
though of course the gold was the light brown wood of the boat,
and the diamonds were the black circular rimmed windows glistening
in the last rays of sun of the day.
The sight brings back memories, the canons blasting, waves crashing,
soldiers shouting to their team-mates. Many men died some English,
some French, though the only person who I seriously grieved
for was brave Admiral Nelson who was shot by a French marksman
just as we claimed victory.
I can still remember the agonizing pain when a French sailor
slashed my leg so badly I had to have it amputated. The vision
of the battle is still clear in my mind, so clear I can still
see the days of adrenalin pumping through my body and blood
like a horse galloping - frightening, but exciting all the same.
The Temeraire may be on the road to destruction, but my memories
live forever. |