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