An Initial Slowing Down


Would you rather work with something practical or beautiful

I'm going to a skilled matter sketched in snow
An animal let loose and sauntering
Figured it was something I didn't know,
where each page contained the letters of my name
and ripped out weren't they, all of the pages

 

 


A flourish of silence,
this winterkill approach to abandonment
like ice floes or an exact gauge buried dangerous

Whose descent would you choose
if opposed to the commemoration galloping away
from a remembered upheaval

 

 

 

If I don't leave I won't
knocking down brambles, anything, something smoother

Cast off and ingratiate a current swelling splendor
that I couldn't confuse for consideration

 


 

I've given up to it,
the supplanted signaling roughing tragic.
The need to know by not knowing
or searching secret I was
and missing the point where I entered

I'm not a single soft target
lined up and strong and satellite and thirst-
there's simply that always

 

 

 

Me with my own light
I am only that calling
in splintered half-ness
a lack of vocabulary

Making it up
Gone mistaken in a gentle missive sent vague

My hands collapsed and handing over the fence


Sara Veglahn is the author of the chapbooks Another Random Heart (Margin to Margin, 2002) and Falling Forward (Braincase Press, 2003), and her work has appeared or is forthcoming in 580 Split, 26, Word for/Word, Fence, castagraf, Art New England, and elsewhere. She currently lives in Northampton, MA.