The Glacier
Issue Three
Winter 2024
Maternal Bond
Never ran
away from home
but should have—
Through the gate
without a backward glance
Our relationship best
through phone lines
strung and buried
across two countries
Now the distance
immeasurable, permanent
Never closer
Private Earthquake, Asheville, 2007
Safe to say
it isn’t safe
in this world
earth’s plates
shift unexpected
in slip-strike
a hint of crevasse
quivering
beneath the surface
like the conversation
at an inn ringed
by the Blue Ridge
between a beautiful
couple during dinner,
locals on an overnight
getaway from three
small children when
the wife learns
new information
about her husband’s
past, astonishing to see
the fissure creeping
across her landscape,
her mouth’s surprise
opening to a cave
of questions
about what else keeps
silent in the dark
It was before your time,
he dismisses
with a wave of his hand
Kelly Cressio-Moeller is a poet and visual artist. Her poems have been nominated for Pushcart Prizes, Best New Poets, and Best of the Net, and have appeared widely in journals and at literary websites including Gargoyle, North American Review, Poet Lore, Salamander, THRUSH Poetry Journal, Valparaiso Poetry Review, Water~Stone Review, and ZYZZYVA, among others. She lives, writes, and paints in the Bay Area. Shade of Blue Trees from Two Sylvias Press (Finalist for the Wilder Prize) is her first poetry collection. Visit her website at www.kellycressiomoeller.com
Artwork by Austin Veldman.
© The Glacier 2024. All rights reserved.
