I live in the want of cloud
an absurd waddle by evolution
yet the arc of a dive
so perfect as a gasp of algorithm
leaving this bland desert
enters a language of survival
to forgive the skua its barbarism
or a violent summation by killer whale
only half innocent
the oily mullet slides in my prayer
a guttural incantation
cycling life within this tremulous motion
grown skinny waiting her return
all throat in anticipation
my duty comes to fly by water
an unbridled pure agility
unwitnessed as all acts of grace
(tremulous motion, a descriptor in Chambers Twentieth Century Dictionary definition of Aurora – too good to let go).
2 thoughts on “On turning penguin”
There’s certainly some memorable language in this one, Jim! The fertility of your imagination is a wonder!
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Thanks Kevin, I woke up with it!