Cedarwood

Written by Jackie Braje

At times and        away from           I

litter     my little words         along    the horizontal 

like crumbs     a             dumb distance.

Away  from        is   how  moss          extends from

oak.         Sidewalks  of      childhood        and women

breaching them.      They walk            away   from   

and back         again.                 Everything I say     now

is          away from       them.   My         idealism

concerns them       in that it          moves from   .

I already exist.             This, a child’s     predicament;

some pristine        thing opposite      its      dusty

origin.      Conditions      of this     fabulous

conflict         require walking.              Away from 

a white      dress      waits its           coffee stain 

runneth over.     Everything     remains to       be     

constructed          before arriving. 

I went             away from,              I’m sorry    . 

Even     sorry is a way           of getting         away from.   

In language     is a    full range   one      can walk      across ;

I   listen   and       I’m carried         away from. 

Grew up      in a house            built   over      a grand  collage. 

Furniture   legs             and stationary      things

push         away from .       When handing,         say,   a rose

to someone                  extend     it       away  from.

I’d       never   label     a form as             feminine            

but if I  did        plural    would be its  shape.         The rose

leaves     one hand            to join    another;     salt

takes      with pleasure    when   waves                     away from.