Poem: Those Whales of Wharfies

May 6, 1998
Issue 

Those Whales of Wharfies

The wharfies are powers of men whose strain of hard fought gains is
culling the flock.
In fact those blokes are whales of males who have seen the tide turned
Webb and dock.
Cranes, and craniums,
Cargo holds and crusty customs,
there is not much dissension amongst them.
What if they lose their jobs?
What if they lose their pluck?
What if they lose the battle of the worker to stay buoyant?
What if a dilettante ruled who thought he was God without wrong and
could do no right?
The people wouldn't let him.
The dark may be coming or the dawn — each of us a choice of light.
Go for it mates! Fight the good fight!
And may there be breakfasts on your patios and on your kinsfolk
ad infinitum!
And my own might I ask.
Carol Ann Marshall

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