We are crumbling,
with our pigmentations
of blue, brown and green,
accompanied by a withering
wind and scent of rain. Dithering
on mouldering marsh and
dune, we – doggedly – continue clasping
our inheritance firmly to our chests. The only
link to mainland lies
sunk with history:
Doggerland, the path that mammoths dared to tread.
Those gargantuan pachyderms,
many centuries dead,
left only bones as testament,
phosphorus to fertilise our green
and pleasant countryside while furrowed fields and shady woodlands
tumbling like loaded dice,
crumbling into sea and sand.
Kim M. Russell, 26th March 2019
Anmol is our Poetics host this week, with an Annie Dillard quote and a variety of poems, including ‘The Map’ by Elizabeth Bishop, my personal favourite of his selection.
Anmol asks us to explore geography in our poems and says that there are different ways of going about it: we can explore and inculcate the various subjects within the science of geography like meteorology, climatology, ecology, environment, culture, population, development, and human-nature relationship; we can write about our city/state/province/region; we can combine different elements and ideas and map out our own geography of who we are and where we stand; and it is quite open-ended.