Praise the patience of a papa penguin.
I don’t envy those dark, star-lit nights
with only the occasional blush-green
current of borealis across his claws.
See how sweetly he holds the egg close
in his brood pouch? And I am certain
his fierce tenderness would scare
even a crabeater seal five times his size.
What exactly does the papa penguin register
in a nighttime that lasts two whole months?
During those days of no sun, does he
remember the particular bend