POETRY*

 
Seagulls etc. 
My grandfather, Sir Frank Gibson, Fremantle’s long-time mayor, Used to take me Down to the Fremantle esplanade To “feed the seagulls” With thrown crusts of bread Which he must have saved. And though they did not RSVP They never refused the invitation.
Then we would walk on to the fishing-boat harbour, Where Biblical-looking old men Mended their red nets.
At Easter he took me to the Fremantle oval To watch the fire-brigade exercises…

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