The Penguin
My
birthday in Dublin Zoo.
It’s all
too much. The white rhinoceros,
The
common shoveller, the Cuban tree-frog.
A whole
world and every part of it
A short
walk from the tea-room.
Grating
buggies, Cornettoes.
A basin
of blue concrete
And a
Humboldt penguin swimming
In three
feet of dirty water.
If only
we could slip inside those eyes
And find
our way back
To the
pack-ice in the Weddell Sea, the churning waves and daring escapes from Leopard
seals.
Instead,
we move on to the gibbons.
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