Cindra Halm Poems




We, Too, Have in Ourselves Carbon in Various Forms



elementary, the parasympathetic fibers

time the air.  We are apparatus; we are latticed

angles taking no artifact but our former

selves through which.  Inspired diamonds,


scattered coal.  Autonomous the non-lonely

ether breathes is to was; I, able to stand

at the barre, bending light for dance like any other.

Touching the tip to the roof the tongue

takes change’s tart tonic and presses


the exhale into word, a form of ash.  Has

always been waste; will always be

next place; we of the craniosacral did not

invent what becomes food; we just add to


how the leaved bronchioles receive

in développé, a reciprocal mist, a studio

between species; one of them said, you’re like me



trees trees trees trees trees




                after Rudolf Steiner, remembering Shelley, and with

                gratitude to Kristin





Cindra Halm loves to play with words and ideas, rhythms and sounds. She teaches at The Loft Literary Center and writes for Rain Taxi and the Mix among other venues.  Her poetry, fiction, essays, articles, and book reviews have also appeared in The Bellingham Review, Paragraph, City Pages, The Book Group Book, The Rake, Blink Again; Sudden Fiction from the Upper Midwest, and  others.  Her poetry chapbook, Inflectional Weather is published by Press of the Taverner.  She lives in Minneapolis, and is aunt to August and Zuri.





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