The Glacier
Issue Four
Winter 2025

Roots

In my dreams we set our roots down 
at the Belle River’s bend. I peel 
pine sap from her armpits, mix it 
with mud on the banks, build 
a sturdy sundial. Time stops 
with the summer sky fixed 
high above us. I feed her 
Thumb clay seasoned with 
my sharecropper blood, 
then use a sharp stone 
to notch my name 
deep into her.

Velvet

I remember walking the cedar 
swamp with Grandpa, dead leaves 
crunching like acorns beneath 
my muck boots. He stepped off the path 
into a thicket, came back smiling 
and set a deer antler in my hands. Come 
January, I don't know what I'll shed. 
Day after the first snowfall I’ll start 
longing for May, when dandelions paint 
sun color onto untilled fields 
and bumblebees float like drunk airplanes. 
Today I see sunbeams shining 
like heaven through the trees
and remember Susie the last day 
of school blowing a kiss to me. Her hands 
were soft as a creekbed, she dug 
to my center and planted yearning. 
Our last go round was 
at the Hazel Park house, rolling 
into each other across a pile 
of unfolded clothes. It took 
me four years to buy 
a different brand of dryer sheets. 
This is the summer of my life. I still dance 
like a sapling. I've got blood to give 
and velvet to rub off. I've seen Monarch 
butterflies fill the milkweed 
of Presque Isle and wanted a picture 
that'd forever shine. I've carried 
an evergreen limb in my mouth, inhaled 
dirt and sap like bittersweet cannabis 
smoke. I am a beautiful flower, death 
will feel like my mother's kiss 
on my forehead. Lord give me a while 
first to love like a child again.

Jeff Thomas is a poet from The Thumb. His poems center his experiences working blue collar jobs and growing up in rural southeast Michigan. Entering his second year studying in Eastern Washington University’s MFA program, Thomas is an instructor of creative writing and college composition, as well as the poetry editor for Willow Springs Magazine. In his spare time, he wanders the streets of beautiful Cheney, Washington in search of abandoned cinder blocks. He loves his mother and gives ice cubes to dogs in the summer.

Back

ISSUE Four HOME