Dogger by Andrew Shephard

A young hunter ponders his future...

Cracking, splitting -

the shining ice retreating.

Shrinking, stinking -

our sacred lands are sinking.

Rising, raging -

storms through our shelters tearing.

Raining, soaking -

muddy mammoths’ legs are sticking.

Warming, swarming -

dark insect clouds are stinging.

Hunting unrelenting -

but the reindeer herds are leaving.

Watching, waiting -

our worried elders meeting.

Dancing, praying -

entreaties are not working.

Fighting, killing –

while our lands are disappearing.

Starving, despairing –

angry voices loud and wailing.

Staying, or going?

Some await a low-tide crossing.

Following, I am leaving

for green hills beyond our knowing.

Sea area Dogger is named after Dogger Bank, a shallow fishing ground once visited by Dutch fishing boats called 'doggers'. During the last ice age Doggerland connected Britain to the rest of the European continent. As the ice melted the seas rose, creating a group of islands cut off from the mainland.