5 Poems Cindy Savett



heavy green


I am the memory
the strain
of deep grass

I am the heavy green
in the stalks

haunted
by a somber tilt

I am lilacs in the coveted air




locked


your marble lips

broken

fire
between your teeth


your
breath locked in the ruins




recommit


the white cold
the latch that insists

the unplowed earth that slides from my mouth
unspeaking earth

the waking who recommit
captive hands
and bones and famine

inside the open tent



stepped


atheist at the forgotten door
stepped into holy

the anonymous forgave reinvented their voice
in blue untitleds

their series here among hollow hands



mocks


you mock
my covered bones

flattening my shoulders with your night breath

your single vowel
unsealing
my forehead

speaking to my torn hands on the railing


I unpack my words
from your field

my unforgiven text
seaming
to the dirt