An Ode To Fred Poem by Marilyn Shepperson

I have a tame seagull
That I have named Fred
Who comes, if nearby, to my call
He'll eat left over chips
Mouldy cheese and stale bread
In fact anything that's bad for him
I call him, a him, but could be a her
I really can't tell the difference
And if on rooftop, when I go outside
He's down on the lawn in a flash
Mewing and begging, like some pathetic orphan
Till I go inside and fetch
Any food that I have to hand
But it came to me the other evening
When we had been through this performance once more
That for all I might think I have tamed him
It's actuallu me, HE has well trained.