Only Once
All
which, because it was
flame and song and granted us
joy, we thought we'd
do, be, revisit,
turns out to have been what it was
that once,
only; every invitation
did not begin
a series, a build-up: the marvelous
did happen in our lives, our stories
are not drab with its absence: but
don't
expect to return for more. Whatever more
there will be will be
unique as those were unique. Try
to acknowledge the next
song in its
body -- halo of flames as utterly
present, as now or never.
~
Denise Levertov ~
(Selected
Poems)
(left button to play, right button
to save)