Imagine waiting an ice age

Meet the lonely drumlin

Drumlin near a beach in Clew Bay, County Mayo, Ireland.

Day 21 of 30 Days of Poetry, Autumn 2024

After all this time,
here: drumlin.
A teardrop forms
of ramshackle layers--
a shape forced onto the land,
pressed into earth by
a protracted, rimy creep. 
The day may seem endless
(drumming fingers on a desk)--
imagine waiting an ice age
to be made, an assembly of
debris under a bully’s
brutal shoulder.
Imagine how one must feel 
(poor awkward spoon)
alone, wedged against the wind--
only to look around 
and find oneself
surrounded by sisters.
Hill after hill
heaving herselves up
half-buried but freeing
of the bed, of the clay,
donning grass,
and a swampy skirt,
a still, steep vantage
from which to 
sip at the sky.

---

I, too, had never heard of the word “ drumlin” before! Here’s another view of a field of drumlins — one located in Wisconsin.

A drumlin is an elongated hill in the shape of an inverted spoon or half-buried egg formed by glacial ice acting on underlying unconsolidated till or ground moraine. Groups of drumlins are referred to as “fields” or “swarms”. They can create a landscape which is often described as having a “basket of eggs topography.”

Did you know there is a 52-mile state park trail to explore swarm of drumlins of Wisconsin?

This fantastical phenomenon of nature was a gift from my friend and author Bill Hemming. You can read his book, Americana: Stories.

Have you ever climbed a drumlin, or seen one? Or fell off of one? They also have them in Ireland and Canada and Finland, and some in Iceland called “The Múlajökull drumlins of Hofsjökull!” Easy for you to say.