Once

Feature Image:
Princess Sabra, or The King’s Daughter (1865), by Edward Burne-Jones

Once there was a story
that lost its end.
It turned in tepid circles
grasping ideas & air
scented like half-remembered
memories,
moments lost.

Dust motes moved in where
commas used to be.
Lint smudged out plotlines
& shadows cast by early morning
erased all words that followed
the first.

Can there be a story in just one word?
Once
Once
Once.

Must it be repeated? Or, once
once had come, been said,
must it transform—
stretch its sides to accommodate
twice, thrice, more?

Once wonders. Once ponders.
Once sees at last
there’s no need to fret about
middles, endings, denouements.

All the reader needs to spin
a kaleidoscope of wonder

is Once.