On turning penguin

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).








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