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This Great Unknowing: Last Poems (1998)

Scraps of moonbobbing discarded on broken waterbut sky-mooncomplete, transcendingall violationHere she seems to be talking to herself aboutthe shape of a life:Only OnceAll which, because it wasflame and song and granted usjoy, we thought we’d do, be, revisit,turns out to have been what it wasthat once, only; every invitationdid not begina series, a build-up: the marvelousdid not happen in our lives, our storiesare not drab with its absence: but don’texpect to return for more. Whatever morethere will be will beunique as those were unique. Tryto acknowledge the nextsong in its body-halo of flames as utterlypresent, as now or never.