Sara Veglahn


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 Split26, Word for/WordFencecastagrafArt New England, and elsewhere. She currently lives in Northampton, MA. 


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