Bird Lady

The old lady wears tube socks,
That stick out from scuffed black boots.
Her legs are like spindly strings,
They dangle from skirt to foot.

People sit at the monument,
enjoying five minutes sun.
She carries bags of shredded bread,
To throw at the well-fed pigeon.

Swooping down with worrying wings,
They usurp me of my seat.
‘Here birdy birdy’ she sings,
Spreading crumbs about our feet.

She tut tuts at kids on skateboards,
Berates the BMX
Being bombarded by hoardes of birds,
Is what I most disklike!