Poesie Quotidienne – Penguin Dreaming

January 17th, 2008

Sam came wandering out of the kitchen the other day, wobbling from one foot to the other, arms held tight to his sides, quacking. As I watched, quizzical, he started flapping his lower arms about, while holding his upper arms against his torso. Odd. When I still didn’t get it, Sam looked at me with a trace of exasperation and started wobbling from side to side with even more vigor. Quack. Quack!! QUACK!!! “I’m a penguin!” he finally announced, and then, of course, it was all clear. We watched “March of the Penguins” recently and the image of thousands of Emperor penguins wobbling thousands of miles between the ocean and their hatching grounds is still fresh.

Watching Sam flap his arms, and remembering the arduous earth-bound migrations of the emperors made me wonder: do penguins dream of flight?

People do, universally it seems; and they don’t even have wings. What about all those penguins that have to wobble to the ends of the earth and back, wings tucked against their sides?

Entry Filed under: Les Poesies Quotidienne

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