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About This Poem
Home in the Empire of Ice
They poke small heads out from
their moms’ underbellies.
Feeling chilled, they retreat
to their parents’ safe spot.
Receiving nourishment,
the chicks grow and adapt.
One day, left alone,
beckoned by the sea,
they take the plunge. and
for five years, they play,
chasing waters’ flow!
Grown and full, they
emerge on land,
swollen stomachs
sliding on ice.
Facing storms,
determined. . .
they waddle
trekking
for miles
home.
Based on information from the documentary "March of the Penguins"
and for David Williams' Contest:True Diminishing Hexaverse.
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