I sat on the harbour front at Oban eating a large fish from the chippie a
month after my wife died and was befriended by a huge black backed gull who
helped me eat the fish and jealously kept lesser gulls at bay. What
beautiful eyes he had. He was magnificent. Thank you for restoring the
memory. Regards Arthur
----- Original Message -----
From: "Sally Evans" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Monday, August 05, 2002 10:29 PM
Subject: Oban, summer night
Oban, summer night
We were only there for an hour -
no plans to travel on
so strolled around the piers
where a train slept terminally
and the Mull steamer lay docked
as the smooth bay of the night
took its hot, short holiday from light,
remembered stories of the past:
how the young busker stood up to the laird,
how all the seals would bob along the harbour,
and how three well-respected Gaelic poets
had walked into the Royal Bank of Scotland
sozzled, and ordered whisky. (³Sorry, sir,
this is the Royal Bank of Scotland.²)
The same old pubs with open doors and singing
spilt into the square, the quay, while boats
crept out on midnight trips around the bay,
a place to eat fish suppers in the presence
of old and unembittered seagulls. A town to keep
through years, though we wonıt stay away
so long this time, we said, and drove away.
Sally Evans
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