A penguin once walked up to me.
I thought he’d lost his sanity,
and could not understand for why
he'd choose to leave the colony,
which packs together, groom and bride,
beloved pairs, and side-by-side
they huddle close and all surround—
without each other, they’d have died,
but this one lingered at the bound
between the nests and feeding ground,
and for a moment, looked at home
one final time. He turned around
and shuffled past the camping zone
where I now stand. He clutched a stone—
the little hope that he held on,
as he approached the arctic dome.
Mar 3
Mar 3, 2026 at 3:57 AM UTC
A penguin once walked up to me.
I thought he’d lost his sanity,
and could not understand for why
he'd choose to leave the colony,
which packs together, groom and bride,
beloved pairs, and side-by-side
they huddle close and all surround—
without each other, they’d have died,
but this one lingered at the bound
between the nests and feeding ground,
and for a moment, looked at home
one final time. He turned around
and shuffled past the camping zone
where I now stand. He clutched a stone—
the little hope that he held on,
as he approached the arctic dome.
