What happens to dead penguins? Poem by Sally Evans
What happens to dead penguins?
From living colonies
a path to higher ground,
a worn trail winds.
Here the old and frail
ascend to a pool
of fresh melt-waters.
Deep layers of corpses lie
in wet ancestral vaults,
depth of clarity.
Those few, who age
and do not die too soon,
take penguin stance.
This twice described
at South Georgian stations
by curious, thirsting men.
We face in from the rim,
towards the riddle
of our last parade.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/8/2024 8:12:03 PM # 1.0.0.1119
hi heres my poem about penguins Penguins are cute, penguins are fluffy, penguins are fun, i want a penguin, i would treat it right, with my heart and my might, for my friends of black and white that, will soon fly briskly through the night, on penguins with penguins. if only they could fly penguins