Rosemary Appleton’s short poem, ‘Boudica’, vividly brings to life the final moments of the legendary rebel queen.
And now she sees that
everything is firewood
houses cities
just flimsy bids for shelter
she knows the way they will burn
fall in on themselves
like the felled trees they once were.
Men drag out their dead
to the beat of her name
light from the flaming city streets
dances
on the gold
heavy against her neck
that might be the only thing to survive.
Now her broken daughters bring her horse
to the bottom of the hill
sun glancing off his flanks
ready for the march down this long straight road.
Rosemary Appleton is a queer writer living in East Anglia and a graduate of Sidney Sussex college. She writes in snatched, coffee-fuelled moments and has had her work published in Mslexia, The Fenland Reed, Spontaneity and The Wellington Street Review. She often explores the intersections between the past and the present in her work, when she gets time to write. She tweets about poetry, chiefly to procrastinate, @BluestockingBks.
Feature image illustration by Sara Rivers.