bearable lightness

beyond the need to focus the cross, hitting appropriate target
zoom in, shoot to kill
there is another memory box of dreams in the mind
swallowed by the everyday pressure cooker, hissing steam of deadlines
there are views behind stained glass
 of foxes and birds, elephants made from autumn leaves pasted on paper
of willards potato chips soaking under the tongue
of drooping Christmas decoration chocolates left late around the house
of a ripe pumpkin sliced up at Halloween, purple clouds before a thunderstorm
the box closes sometimes,
with melodies thumped out on sold instruments
leaving a light trail of a forgotten handstand
and a sun warmed Tropitone scented towel embrace