They were covered with a bleached tarp
the way ancient furniture is draped
to protect it from dust.”Fire! Fire!”
the captain ordered
but they couldn’t
they refused
they were pushed and shoved
toward the condemned men
once friends and comrades
now silent and still, waiting.
“Fire! Fire!” the captain’s anger broke his voice.
but they couldn’t
they refused
A tear ran down the face of one man
his voice rose above the others, clear,
“I cannot obey!” he shouted.
“Fire!” cried the captain once more, “or join these traitors!! FIRE!!!”
The young man raised the gun
and without hesitation
he obeyed his captain’s last order…
the sailor fired the gun.
A crimson flower bloomed upon the white jacket
and the captain clutched at his heart…
he fell at the feet of the condemned men… dead.
Written some time in the mid 1970s. I originally saw the painting in a copy of Life magazine. It is “Mutiny on the Potemkin” by Alton Tobey.
