Stereopticon

There is a picture place
somewhere within the mind
much like a stereopticon…
that magic lantern
where images reside…
so that occasionally
we summon memories
to surface into thought.

Click. Brown tobacco leaves
sequestered in the eaves
of a barn in Tennessee…
aroma benediction
of honeyed potency.

Click. La Sagrada Familia… spirit flight
design intensity… rainbow infused glass
stone spires ascending to Barcelona blue.

Click. Quail covey…
flushed from smoke-gray chaparral
feet speed-blurred
beneath mottled plumpness…
vaguely Egyptian topknots
trembling in the dash.

We savor more illusions
click…click…click…
’til sated contentment
dims their clarity.

Bonnie Marshall