The Glacier
Issue One
Fall 2022

Surrender

Last night I read wondering if you’re a good or bad person
 
will only cause suffering. Which was an interesting
 
& true take on the need to sometimes shed the self
 
like an old skin & sometimes throw it up
 
like when my kitten had her first hairball the other day
 
& screamed the whole while. What was that,
 
she demanded from an answerless sky. Once
 
it was out, though, she licked her lips & walked
 
peaceably away. I think I love other species so much
 
because they do what we do but with so much
 
more grace. They know how to let go. I stand
 
still. They know how to step away.

Meditation

It feels rude to fall in love in the midst of death.
But it’s irresponsible not to, really.
Every morning I wake up with the choice:
how much do I want to limit my limited time?
Wild possums roam my yard.
I take a cue, I open up to instinct.

Meditation

A teacher tells me, every change is a promotion.
 
I have spent whole lifetimes with my heart
 
 
 
as a cat wanting outdoors, then indoors,
 
then out. I know the ache
 
 
 
of standing forever in the doorway.
 
I know it & I don’t want it anymore.

After the Fight

But it’s the oldest story—reader,

I love what I’ve built of him.

I’m growing thin again.

You can see it in my face.

My eyes two wells full, a broken bucket.

Time will be honest as a sword.

RUTH BAUMANN has a PhD from Florida State University, and teaches in Florida prisons. She also is the author of two books of poetry from Black Lawrence Press.

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