Wild Night – by Barry, looking at ‘The Wreckers’ by George Morland.
The shoreline is split,
And shafts of moonlight
Through shifting clouds.
It’s a wild night.
Ideal for dragging ships to their death.
The cargo is picked up by rough hands
As it is thrown onto the shore.
Got a nice load here, Guv.
Resting his tired limbs?
No, he’s started on the rum already,
He’s wet inside and out.
Their life in their hands as they struggle against the waves.
The quiet horse looks on as the wild horses crush and sink
The contents of the pale ship into the rough blue-grey.
The sky reflects the moonlit story.
Velocity and violence,
The immense power and energy
That comes from an angry sea.
It gives and takes, but it doesn’t care.
There’s no attempt at rescue.
Crying souls are left to the vague background.
Don’t think about them.
Retreat and share the loot, lads.