Morraine

Debbie Lee

Debris and silt heavily
carried is a delta
in my river memory.

Glacier pale, I am
pushing around
dirt and mud.

I am stuck, muddy
miserable, troubled,
desolate ice splinters.

I feel every millimetre
crawled, my moraine
age has wearied me.

Even though my
imprint is upon land,
earth, rocks and water —

Impervious glaciation,
I split into lateral, medial,
supraglacial and terminal —

I hold, cracked, intense
and battered, Promethean fire, 
of flow, movement, and matter.

Even when terminal, 
my rocky sediment and 
unique minerals demonstrate

I flowed there.

The Science

A moraine is the material left behind by a moving glacier, and Just as rivers carry debris and silt that eventually builds up to form deltas, glaciers transport all sorts of dirt and boulders that build up to form moraines. In turn, these moraines help us to make sense of our past environments, so with the impact of climate change (and during the Covid-19 lockdowns in 2020 and 2021) I have been experiencing recurring dreams of disappearing glacial landscapes. I hope to one day visit the Antarctic, and this was inspired by www.antarcticglaciers.org, as I find the diagrams and photos on the site helpful alongside the research findings that are also presented there.

The Poet

Debbie Lee adores poetry and stories. She calls her middle sister B and has been drawn to B-towns such as Ballarat, Brunswick, and Brisbane. Publications include Cicerone Journal, fourW, Page Seventeen, Paradise Anthology, Pink Panther Magazine, pressure gauge journal, Stereo Stories, and The Sciku Project.

Next poem: Mother and Son by Elisabeth Kelly